


Long Road From Ruin

by luckbalady



Category: Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
Genre: Angst and Romance, F/M, Physical Abuse, Sexual Content, Sexual Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2019-05-23
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 25
Words: 130,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luckbalady/pseuds/luckbalady
Summary: An unexpected twist of fate brings Mr. Darcy to a place he never imagined himself patronizing and where he once again crosses paths with Miss Elizabeth Bennet. She too had been brought here by an unforeseen and cruel twist of fate. Now they must strive to overcome the pain and taint of ruin to find happiness and a future in an unforgiving society who thrives on scandal.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** Currently also being posted on FFN under my username luckbalady and AHA as tbmyoung. The rating for this story was determined by my desire to tackle the reality of a difficult subject (human trafficking) and contains brief descriptions of or references to violence and references to sexual harassment. But those are brief and in no way graphic because I REALLY DON'T want to write that! Those scenes will ALWAYS come with a warning beforehand and advice on how to skip those portions of the story if they make you uncomfortable, which I certainly understand. But while the story has a dark beginning, I promise it will get brighter as we go along.

**Chapter 1**

How had he ended up here? It was a question he was asking himself for the twentieth time in the past five minutes. He had not taken more than two steps into the entrance hall before the assault on his senses left him questioning how this had come to be his evening. How had drinks at his club gone so awry?

_The crowd at White's had been particularly loud that evening; no doubt a result of members of Parliament returning to town ahead of next week's opening session. At any other time, such noise and crowding would have been enough to drive the taciturn and less sociable Mr. Darcy back home or to visit his cousin the Colonel if he happened to be in town. But tonight, the last place he wished to be was alone, and since his cousin was still away with his regiment, the crowd at least provided him with the diversion he desperately needed._

_Emptying his glass and setting it on the table before him, Mr. Darcy scanned the room, compiling a list of faces he recognized and another of people to be sure to avoid. As his glass was replenished yet again by the attentive staff lingering amongst the crowd, just such an individual from the latter list appeared before him._

_"Darcy! How good to see you old man!"_

_With a sigh and a roll of the eyes, Mr. Darcy watched as the finely dressed gentleman propelled himself, ungracefully and without invitation, into the empty seat at his table. With a barely perceptible nod of the head and voice devoid of any warmth or welcome, he greeted his cousin, "Edward."_

_Edward Fitzwilliam, eldest son and heir of the Earl of Matlock and cousin to the Darcys, was dressed impeccably as usual. His well-tailored clothes and intricately tied cravat were, as usual, a credit and a testament to the wealth and status of the Matlock earldom. However, on closer inspection, the blood-shot eyes and slight disheveling of his blond curls also attested to his cousin having already spent a good portion of his evening in the drink. Another not uncommon sight where the man was concerned._

_"This is an unexpected surprise! I would never imagine you to be so tolerable of a crowd such as this." The slight slurring of Edward's words further confirmed Darcy's suspicions. "Come, what are you drinking? Let us have another." And, with a flourish of his hand, two more drinks appeared at the table._

_"I believe you may have already had enough, Edward." His disdain for his cousin's lifestyle evident in his tone._

_"Nonsense. You are not fooling anyone, Darcy. I can see you have had more than your usual share this evening."_

_Surprised, Darcy's head snapped to attention, causing the world to tilt slightly. As his eyes quickly refocused, he was surprised to find his usually imperceptive cousin smirking at him knowingly. Perhaps it takes one drunk to so easily spot another._

_"Here, drink up, old man. The night is young."_

Edward. That was how this had happened.

Moving quietly through the drawing rooms, Mr. Darcy observed the collection of gentleman and tradesmen alike loitering about, flirting shamelessly with the collection of ladies gathered there for their amusement. It was a sickening sight to behold, and he asked himself for the now twenty-first time what he was doing there. In his eight and twenty years on this earth, he had made a habit of avoiding establishments such as this and had succeeded in avoiding the common temptations and pitfalls that so easily claimed many of his peers. Yet, here he was. The scent of French perfume filling his nostrils while gaudy red walls with their gold threaded papering assaulted his eyes. Loud voices and fake, simpering laughter filled his ears; all combining to cause his already whisky-addled head to swim.

Feeling a tug on his arm, he looked down to find a young girl with brilliant red hair smiling up at him. The plunging neckline on her gown masterfully presented a titillating view of her décolletage while her eyelashes flitted and fluttered in what he was sure was meant to serve as an enticing come-hither. As gracefully as he could, he removed his arm from her grasp, bowed politely and walked away, searching for Edward in the crush.

After a few minutes spent searching the room he was in and the next, he finally spotted his libertine of a cousin flirting shamelessly with a girl who looked as if she was not much older than Mr. Darcy's young sister. Without a second thought, he grabbed Edward by the arm and excused themselves from the young girl's presence.

"Edward, I am leaving. I don't know why I allowed you to convince me to accompany you, but I will most certainly not remain and be party to this… this…" He waved his arm dismissively at his surroundings while his clouded mind tried to find the appropriate word to describe the scene.

"Come now, Darcy. You really do need to shed this noble mien of yours and enjoy the pleasures that life has to offer men of our status." Grabbing his cousin by the shoulder, he guided Mr. Darcy through the doorway and into yet another parlor. This room, however, was not filled with the scenes of debauchery occurring throughout the rest of the house. Instead, it was filled with about twenty or so gentleman, laughing and conversing, many of them speculating about what wonderful creature Madame Amelia would be introducing tonight. It was, in fact, this scintillating event that had drawn his cousin to the Madame Amelia's that evening.

_The gentleman had been sitting at the table at White's for nearly two hours before the crowd began to thin. Curious as to what could draw so many men away at such an early hour, Mr. Darcy voiced his observation to his cousin._

_"Oh, I am sure they are all on their way to Madame Amelia's. That actually is my destination as well," Edward stated before downing the rest of his drink and attempting to rise to his feet. "I say, Darcy, you should join us! Oh, do not look at me like so. You never allow yourself to enjoy any of the pleasures life has to offer but yet you sit in judgment of those of us who do. Why do you not, for once in your life, allow yourself some basic pleasure?" Once again, Edward attempted to rise from his seat and finally succeeded in getting himself, though unsteadily, on his feet._

_As Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to issue his retort, Edward silenced him with a wave of his hand. "If it is disease you are worried about, you need not. In fact, Madame Amelia has been advertising all week a new girl whose innocence will be auctioned off tonight. Oh, do not look so repulsed! It is the way of the world, Darcy, whether you like it or not. Someone will bed that fine young filly tonight, so why shouldn't it be you?"_

_Shocked into silence, Mr. Darcy tried to process all that he had heard. Repulsed did not even begin to describe what he felt at such a notion. An unbidden image of a horse auction immediately came to mind, further offending his sensibilities._

_"And if your high moral standards will not allow you to act as such, there are many lovely young women who are clean and healthy and happy to take a handsome, wealthy man into their bed." At that point, Edward had reached over to grab his cousin by the arm and pull him to his feet. Before Mr. Darcy had time to fully understand what he was allowing himself to be dragged into, they were halfway across town._

_The din in the room continued to rise as several more gentlemen entered, following closely by a curvy woman of medium height. Draped in a dress of deep purple silk and black lace with her bountiful mass of blonde curls piled upon her head, she glided about the room, greeting each of the men assembled. Finally making her way to them, she executed a flawless curtsey and smiled warmly at Edward._

"My Lord, how lovely to see you here this evening!"

"Madame Amelia, it is, as always, a pleasure. One I have been eagerly anticipating since I heard the news."

As she smiled becomingly in response, her eyes shifted to Mr. Darcy. "And you, sir. You are welcome as well… although I am quite certain I have not had the pleasure of making your acquaintance." She held out her hand as she introduced herself.

Unsure of how to respond, Mr. Darcy allowed his years of training in proper etiquette to guide him in bowing over the lady's hand. Although, he did not return the honor of sharing his name with her.

"Oh, there is no need to introduce yourself. I am certainly well aware of who you are, sir," she smirked. "I hope that what we have tonight will be to your liking. If it is not, I'm sure we can find something to satisfy the refined tastes of a gentleman such as yourself. Please do not hesitate to share with me any way in which I can make your evening more enjoyable." With another knowing smile, she curtsied again and moved across the room to begin her presentation.

"Good evening, gentlemen," she announced and then waited as the room quieted and all eyes turned towards her. "And it is indeed a wonderful evening. I'm sure you will all be quite taken with the latest, and may I say, loveliest addition to our humble home." Again, she paused as many men in the audience chuckled at her jest. "She is a handsome young girl, not long out of the school room. Although being gentle born, she has a fiery spirit that I am sure many of you will find to your liking. However, only one of you will be so fortunate to win the honor tonight of ushering her fully into womanhood."

Again, she waited patiently as the murmurs amongst the crowd died down. Once she was sure she had their undivided attention, she turned to signal the footman standing beside a screen in the far corner of the room. On her command, he reached behind the screen to take the arm of the young woman hidden from view. With a great flourish, the young maiden was ushered to a box standing in the front of the room and instructed to stand upon it to offer everyone a better view. Several laughs and exclamations of pleasure rose from the admirers. Everyone was indeed quiet pleased with Madame Amelia's offering and began reaching into their pockets for their money. "We will begin the bidding at ten pounds."

One gentleman, however, was most seriously displeased at what he beheld, and with a quiet gasp, whispered, "Elizabeth!”


	2. Chapter 2

_"From the very beginning – from the first moment, I may almost say – of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others…" The words played through his mind for what must have been the thousandth time since Easter. Each remembrance accompanied by the memory of the look of disdain in her eyes and the sharpness of her tone as she hurled her stinging words at him, rejecting his suit. Rejecting him. Each remembrance further twisting the knife that had been lodged in his chest since that fateful evening at Hunsford._

_Groaning, he stood from his desk and strode to the window of his study. Nursing the glass of brandy in his hand, he leaned against the sill and watched the people and carriages passing on the street below. With every letter of business he had written that day, he could not suppress the sharp pain he felt in his chest each time he wrote the date. This date. Once again, his mind retreated back into the memories of where he was on this date one year ago._

_He had found himself standing in the drawing room at Lucas Lodge, begrudgingly attending to a conversation between a member of the Lucas family, who he really did not remember, and Mr. Hurst. While they entertained themselves discussing the local sport, Mr. Darcy had found himself instead entertaining himself with watching Miss Elizabeth as she laughed with her good friend Miss Lucas by the refreshments table._

_By that night, she had come to dominate his thoughts, and he had only truly allowed Charles to convince him to attend that night because he knew it would afford him the opportunity to once again be in Miss Elizabeth's presence. He had spent the day leading up to the soiree carefully selecting a variety of topics that he could use to engage the young lady in conversation and had spent the first two hours of the gathering trying to find an opportunity to do just that. However, fate did not appear to be in his favor that evening and he had begun to despair that he would not have the chance to talk to her._

_Imagine his surprise then when Sir Lucas himself had finally managed to accomplish the task for him! He could still remember the way his heart raced and his body came alive with excitement when Sir Lucas presented her hand to him in an offer to dance. And he felt equally dejected when she had stated that she had no intention of dancing and quickly excused herself from their company. It had been the only chance he had that evening to engage her attention and it failed miserably. It had been but the first of many more rejections yet to come._

_The sounds of shouting from the street below pulled Mr. Darcy from his reverie, and he watched with little interest as two passing coach drivers yelled at each other to be more attentive to where they were driving. With another sigh, he pushed himself away from the window and went to the cabinet to replenish his drink. Returning to his desk, he pulled another clean sheet of stationary out of his desk and began to write._

_"I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."_

_Dropping the pen, he quickly pushed himself back from the desk and paced the room. This would not do. He could not, on today of all days, find either solitude nor peace in the quiet emptiness of Darcy House. He knew that remaining at home and being left to his thoughts would simply serve to drive him mad. Emptying his glass, he left his study and walked towards the main entrance of his home where a footman, with all the skill and grace expected of a servant in the employ of the Darcy family, quickly retrieved his coat and hat. With a nod of appreciation, Mr. Darcy walked out the front door of his home, deciding that the company to be found at White's would provide the distraction he so desperately needed._

She now stood before him, a piece of chattel being dangled before the lowliest of men as they competed for the opportunity to ruin her. At first, Mr. Darcy tried to convince his eyes that they were deceiving him. It simply was not possible! How could Miss Elizabeth, the gentle born daughter of a respectable landowning gentleman be on the auction block in a seedy London brothel? But yet, he knew without a shadow of a doubt that it was indeed his heart's desire that stood upon that block. Her form, which he had always found light and pleasing, appeared paltry but it was still the same figure that he had found so enchanting as he had watch her moved through the figures of country dances. Those were indeed the same chocolate locks which had tormented his dreams every night for the past year, and the fine and delicate features of her face, though currently frozen with fear, he knew better than his own.

"And a sixpence!"

"A shilling!"

The scramble and tense excitement surrounding the auction served to quickly sober Mr. Darcy's inebriated mind. With each passing breath, the bids were rising and Miss Elizabeth's fate was coming closer and closer to being sealed. How she had found herself in such a place he did not know nor, to be perfectly honest, did he care. All he knew was that he had to act and quickly. Reaching into his pocket, he found that he had plenty of blunt, but then he was sure so did many of the lecherous bidders clamoring for the opportunity to deflower an innocent.

"A florin!" He heard Edward shout from beside him. Turning to his cousin, he quickly grabbed his arm and demanded that Edward give him all the money he had with him.

"I beg your pardon!"

"Now, Edward. Let me what you have. I will repay you on the morrow," he demanded and went so far as to reach into his cousin's coat to retrieve his money purse.

While Edward was never known to be the quick-witted one in the family, it did not take him more than a few seconds to realize what his cousin was about. Mr. Darcy of Pemberley, the Scion of Morality and All Things Proper, was desperate to purchase the moll! With a genuine laugh of surprise, Edward allowed his cousin to take his purse and determined that he would do right by Darcy and help him win the girl. "As you wish, Darcy." With a condescending smirk and lewd wink, he turned his attention back to the front of the room and called out in a loud, clear voice that brooked no opposition, "Twenty pounds!"

The effect was immediate. At once, the room fell into silence and Edward made his way through the crowd until he was standing before Madame Amelia, who needless to say wore an expression of such surprise that he could not help but laugh. "Have we a deal, madam?"

Finally finding her voice, Madame Amelia glanced up at the young woman before turning her attention back to the crowd. "I have twenty pounds. Does anyone wish to bid more?" After waiting a few moments and realizing that this was indeed the highest offer, she declared the auction closed and signaled for the footman to remove her from the block and the room. Turning back to her new favorite customer, Madame Amelia smiled and slipped her hand around Edward's arm and led him towards the door. "If you will, Sir, we shall just prepare her for your visit. She will be ready for you in say a quarter hour?"

"She is not for me, madam. She is, in fact, a gift for my cousin."

Mr. Darcy was still standing where Edward had left him, lingering at the back of the room as the rest of the gentlemen filed out to return to the drawing rooms in search of alternative entertainment for the evening. Still feeling dazed and confused over all that had occurred, he simply stared at the pair as they sauntered towards him. Upon reaching him, Edward held out his hand, indicating that he needed his purse, and with all the flourish that such a transaction entails handed the twenty pounds to Madame Amelia and thanked her for her services.

"As I was saying to your dear cousin, we only need a few moments to prepare her for you. Please help yourself to some of our excellent brandy in the blue room and I will fetch you in a quarter hour." With that, she curtsied and followed the last of the gentlemen out of the room.

"Come, Darcy. Let us have a toast to that lovely little filly whose bed you will be warming tonight." As he led Mr. Darcy towards the door, he added, "Oh, and let me a couple of guineas. You should not be the only one enjoying such lovely company, and it is the least you could do to repay my kindness.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** The next several chapters are where the story gets dark, alluding to the brutality of human trafficking and acts of violence. Although details are mostly avoided (because again I really don't want to write that), I attempt to be honest about what trafficking victims endured, then and now. If you think this may be too difficult to handle (which is certainly understandable), I would recommend skipping it and going on to the next chapter where we will return to Mr. Darcy's POV. The mood will improve as the story continues though, I promise.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
As Miss Elizabeth stood upon the auction block, the faces and voices around her seemed faded and distant, as if they were miles away. She could discern the calling out of numbers, but her famished and fatigued mind could not process what they fully meant, as if it was refusing to acknowledge what was happening to her. She had not been allowed to sleep for more than half an hour at a time for the past three days and had been living on a simple slice of bread and cheese each day for the past week. Her body and mind purposely weakened in part as punishment for her attempt to escape on the previous Sunday and in part preparation for tonight. A weakened body had indeed led to a weakened spirit.

Swaying slightly, she forced her mind to focus on the gentleman now standing before her, smiling up at her in such a manner as to make her skin crawl. "Have we a deal, madam?" she heard him say. And just like that, it was done; she had been sold. Feeling Thomas' hand on her arm, she looked down to find him offering her assistance in dismounting the block. Leaning heavily on his arm, she was led from the parlor and guided up the servants' stairway to the third floor where she was quickly ushered into a bedchamber at the end of the hall. As soon as she entered, her eyes immediately settled on the large bed swathed in crisp white linens which dominated the chamber. Quickly filling with an intense sense of fear and panic, she tried to rush back through the door from which she had just entered; however, Thomas was prepared and easily overpowered her, propelling her backwards until she toppled onto the bed. Before she could scramble back on to her feet, he had left the chamber, closing and locking the door behind him.  
She was trapped.

Finally, overwhelmed with grief, she sunk back onto the bed as the tears she had been fighting for weeks finally sprung forth. Bitterness and pain mixed with anger and fear as the smug, and as she now knew, true face of evil floated before her mind's eye.

_"Ah, my dear cousin! Have you completed your packing?"_

_Elizabeth had been sitting in the garden trying to commit to memory the smell of Longbourn's gardens when her cousin, Mr. Collins, found her. She had spent the day finalizing her packing and had come outside to once again bask in the beauty of her home. She did not know when next she would see it and was determined not to waste the moment.  
"Yes, sir. I have all but my travel clothes for tomorrow packed and ready for my departure."_

_"Excellent!"_

_She hoped that he would then leave her be, but as was often the case with Mr. Collins, he would not be so accommodating. Instead he invited himself to sit beside her on the bench and continued discussing with her the details of her travels._

_"Now, you are to meet with Mrs. Dartmouth tomorrow evening at the coach station in London. From there, you will be traveling north with her and her children. I am sure you will find Newcastle to be a modest yet lovely corner of the country. I myself have never had the pleasure of traveling so far north, but I have been told that it is a truly exquisite—"_

_"Yes, thank you, sir," She interrupted. It was her last night in her childhood home and being reminded that she was being sent to work so far from her family was an upsetting thought that she was trying not to dwell upon today._

_Mr. Collins merely gazed at her for a few moments, and for the first time in her acquaintance with the gentleman, she felt the hair upon her neck begin to rise. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but she sincerely felt as if she espied a strange gleam of pleasure in the way he was looking at her. Almost like a cat that had got the cream. As he rose from the bench, he smiled and said, "Mrs. Dartmouth does you a great honor by offering you this position. It was wise of you, Cousin, to not pass on such an invitation. For who knows what could become of a young lady who thinks herself superior to those prospects which life so generously deigns to present her."_

_And with those cryptic words, he bowed and returned to the house. Feelingly strangely shaken by the encounter, Elizabeth turned back to look at the house and found herself for the first time to be thankful that she would no longer have to live under Mr. Collins' protection and charity._

So lost in her misery, Elizabeth did not hear the door open and was therefore not prepared when a hand savagely grabbed her by the hair and pulled her off the bed. Landing hard upon the floor, she groaned and raised her head to meet the cold, steely face of Madame Amelia sneering down at her. "On your feet," she commanded and pulled her up by the arm.

It was then that Elizabeth discovered that two of the other women had accompanied the madam and were holding what appeared to be a shift of some sort, a bottle of perfume, and a hairbrush. She was then instructed to change into what she could now identify as a knee-length chemise and to allow the women to prepare her for her customer. But when she hesitated, the madam wasted no time in grabbing her by her hair again and brutally propelling her into the wall.

"You have been far more trouble than you are worth, and had I known you would bring me such difficulties I would not have paid as much for you as I did." Again, her head was wrenched back as she was dragged to stand in the middle of the chamber while the other two women assisted with getting her out of her gown and into the chemise.

Once her gown had been changed, the perfume applied, and her hair brushed out, the two women quietly left the chamber, leaving only Elizabeth and Madame Amelia. "I will make myself very clear to you, my dear. This gentleman is a new client and I have been paid handsomely for his time with you. You will obey my orders and do as you have been instructed. And when I return, I had best find your gentleman to be well-satisfied with his purchase. If he is not and you behave in any manner which will cost me his patronage, you and that lovely sister of yours will pay more dearly than you could ever possibly imagine. Do we understand one another?"

At Elizabeth's nod, the madam drew herself up to her full height as a satisfied smiled graced her lips. "Very well." Walking over to the decanter of wine in the far corner of the room, she poured a glass before reaching into the change purse that hung around her neck. With growing concern, Elizabeth watched as a small vial appeared and a few dashes of powder were dissolved to the wine. When the madam once again approached her, she extended her hand, presenting the glass and encouraged her to drink it. "Just a little something to ease the pain, and to help this all pass so much more quickly. Trust me."

Elizabeth eyed the wine with great trepidation. In the time since she had arrived, she had been witness to how dependent many of the women had become on Madame Amelia's powders. She had watched as many begged the madame for it nightly, others only when they realized their customer for the night would be a trial to bear. But they all agreed that it was a godsend, a miracle that made their day-to-day existence more tolerable.

There was no denying her own fate now, and with that reality weighing heavily upon her, she finally and with a shaking hand reached for the glass and sipped at it.

"There, that will make you feel much better," the madam cooed as she adjusted several of Elizabeth's curls before taking a step back to survey her work. With another smile, she added as she walked towards the door, "Remember, it is easy, my dear. Just lie back and do as he commands and it will all be over soon enough." And with that, the door closed once again and Elizabeth listened as the lock slid into place.

Now all she was able to do was wait.


	4. Chapter 4

Numbly, Mr. Darcy allowed his cousin to guide him towards the door, but deciding at the last moment that he had no desire to once again venture into the crowded and depraved drawing rooms of the brothel, he stopped and made his excuses to Edward. "No, I will remain here. Please do not feel as if you need attend me." Handing his cousin the guineas as requested, he watched as Edward made his way from the room, a large and knowing grin on his face as he went.

Silence filled the air as Mr. Darcy now found himself alone and brimming with a restless energy that he knew not what to do with. Turning from the door, he began pacing the length of the room. First, he was drawn to the screen behind which Miss Elizabeth had been sitting while the crowd had been mingling and laughing around her. The cream colored panels stood at about a meter and a half in height and were decorated with periwinkle detailing depicting scenes of ladies dancing. One was set at what appeared to be a country dance, another in a field filled with flowers, while the third was indistinguishable in the shadow of the candlelight. Moving around the screen, he then noted the small, uncomfortable looking wooden stool that was resting behind it, wedged between the wall and the screen. Studying it, he realized how very little room she had been allowed to occupy while she awaited her fate, and imagined that she could not have been able to move from the one position in which she must have been seated. He could easily envision her sitting upon that stool and feeling akin to a caged animal awaiting the slaughter.

As he then made his way to the box upon which she had stood, a vision of her terrified and thin form appeared before his mind's eye. There was no question that she was here under duress. He was certain of it not only from his own experience with the lady and his firm understanding of her character and morality, but from the evident signs of fear which were etched upon every feature of her lovely face. Even from the back of the room, he could practically feel the tension radiating from her. How had she ended up in such a situation?

As he pondered on that question, he resumed pacing for he knew not how long until the door once again opened and Madame Amelia glided into the room. Smiling and welcoming in her demeanor, she apologized for taking so long to fetch him but assured him repeatedly that all was well and his companion was awaiting his company. As she then tried to guide him from the room, he stopped abruptly and insisted he did not wish to be seen by the other patrons as they made their way up the stairs.

"Of course, Sir. I understand completely," she demurred before turning and leading him towards the same door through which Miss Elizabeth had exited earlier. "If you are not opposed, we could use the servants' stairs. It would greatly limit the number of people who may see and recognize you."

Mr. Darcy nodded in agreement and remained silent as he was ushered up the darkened stairs to what he counted to be the third floor. As they exited onto the landing, he was forced to blink several times as his eyes adjusted to the lighting, and once he was able to see clearly again, he wish he could not. His eyes had been immediately drawn to deep red walls that surrounded him and upon which rather shocking paintings were hung. Each depicted naked female forms engaging in a variety of the acts which occurred behind the closed doors lining the hall. What he was sure was meant to be sensual and inspire desire in the brothel's patrons only served to further offend him. Unbidden images of Miss Elizabeth being forced to participate in such hedonistic acts flooded his mind, causing his chest to tighten and his stomach to churn as he was filled with anxiety. Taking several deep breathes, he looked away and settled his eyes instead on the sconces flanking a door at the end of the hall. Those at least did not appear to be lewd in nature and were the safest place to focus his attention. He had no desire to have any further images of debauchery impede upon his sensibilities as he prepared himself to face her. Little did he realize, it was that very door to which he was being led.

Once they reached the end of the hall, Mr. Darcy became aware of the presence of a footman and listened as the madame exchanged a few quiet words with the servant before turning back to him with a smile. "All is ready, Sir. Please, take a moment to survey the room to be sure all is to your liking. If there is any way I can assure your evening to be a comfortable and pleasurable one, please inform me so at once and it shall be done." He then watched as she approached the door and subtly removed a key from her gown which was used to quietly unlock the door.

For a few moments, he remained frozen where he stood. Uncertain of what he would find when he entered that chamber, he needed to collect his thoughts and prepare himself as best he could. Then with the same determination and poise that had marked his character as a man and a Darcy, he crossed the remaining distance in three strides and entered before his courage could waiver. Once there, his eyes immediately sought her out and within a breath, he found her.

She was standing before the bed, her eyes downcast as Madame Amelia removed an empty wine glass from her hand. Involuntarily, his eyes were drawn to her figure, which was barely concealed by the nearly sheer white chemise she wore. Through the thin, fine fabric, he could easily discern the darkened nipples and supple swell of her breasts. The glow of the firelight behind her allowed him to trace the contours of her body as her full bosom tapered into a slimmer waist before once again giving way to the lush curves of her hips. Try as he might, he could not keep his eyes from then settling briefly upon the hint of the dark triangle of curls at the apex of her thighs before finally tracing along her long, firm legs.

A violent surge of unadulterated, heady desire seized him at the sight of his heart's desire so openly on display, and his head was left swimming in a sea of wanton yearning. But just as quickly, he was then filled with an intense sense of shame for allowing his senses to be overcome with such base desires when the woman he loved stood before him, shaking and scared. She was vulnerable and exposed and he was taking advantage of her deplorable situation to satisfy his own selfish curiosity! His eyes snapped closed as he took a deep breath, attempting to collect himself and restore whatever balance and decorum he could find.

When he finally felt himself to once again be in control, he fixed his eyes upon her face, which was still turned towards the floor as she would not meet his gaze. Another quick glance at her figure, done while refusing to allow his attention be drawn to any particular part of her, confirmed his earlier suspicions that she now appeared undernourished. Ensuring his usual mask of indifference was firmly in place, he turned to Madame Amelia. "Madam, I am a bit famished and would appreciate a light repast. Is it possible to have one delivered here?"

"Of course, Sir. There is also a decanter of our best wine at your disposal," she answered as she moved across the chamber to return the wine glass to the table. "Or would you prefer brandy or another spirit to be brought as well?"

"The wine will be sufficient, thank you." Again, his attention returned to Miss Elizabeth to find that she was still refusing to raise her head, and he began to question if she was even aware that he was in the room. With a wave of the hand, he dismissed Madame Amelia from the chamber and did not trouble himself to acknowledge her when she assured him the platter of food would be delivered shortly.

As the door closed behind them, the room once again fell into silence. He continued to stare at her, drinking in the image of her long dark curls falling about her shoulders. He was not certain what he should do now that they were alone, but he knew that his first task must be to put her at ease. Deciding that she indeed did not realize who it was that stood before her, he reminded himself that he needed to proceed with caution. The very last thing he wished to do was further frighten her, and with a voice as gentle as possible, he addressed her by name, "Miss Bennet."

With a startled gasp, she looked up in surprise, which only grew more so as she recognized the man standing before her. "Mr. Darcy!"


	5. Chapter 5

They stood in silence for a few moments, both uncertain as to what they should do or say in a moment such as this. There were so many thoughts running through his mind, a bevy of questions he wished to ask; however, there was not one of them he could bring himself to give voice to as they stood awkwardly before each other. Observing her silence, he surmised that she was in a similar state as he. What questions must she be asking herself about his presence here tonight? Did his appearance here further confirm her low opinion of him? Was she even in a position to maintain that low opinion of him given her current circumstances? No, such a thought was unfair of him. Unlike him, she had not willingly lowered herself to be at such a place, of that he was certain. Forced? Yes, that was more likely; she had somehow been forced into this position. But how?

His thoughts were interrupted as a knock on the door behind him brought him to his senses. Striding quickly to the door, he opened it to find a young woman carrying a tray of cold meats, cheese, and bread standing at the threshold. Moving aside, he allowed her to enter and watched silently as she placed the tray down beside the decanter of wine before executing a quick curtsey and hurrying from the room. When they were once again alone, he turned back to Miss Elizabeth to find that the interruption appeared to have also shaken her from her shock.

"Pray Sir, will you not make yourself more comfortable?" She asked while gesturing vaguely towards the bed.

He did not miss the way her eyes kept darting quickly towards the food before she would then force them back to his person. But even when she looked at him, he noticed that her gaze would never fully rise to meet his. She stood before him, broken and ashamed. The reality of it hung upon her like a heavy cloak and it broke his heart to see her so. That realization was enough to finally propel him forward, to act as he knew he must.

As he removed his coat, she took several steps away from him until the back of her legs bumped up against the side of the bed. She appeared to struggle momentarily to maintain her balance, and he instinctively reached out a hand to steady her. Grabbing hold of her elbow, the sensation of his skin upon hers sent another shockwave through his being, and he again experienced the dizzying effects of blood rushing through his veins. Closing his eyes for a moment, he took yet another deep breath, before turning his attention back to her.

"My apologies, madam. It was not my intention to startle you." Holding his coat out towards her, he continued, "Pray, wear this. It shall help warm you."

For a few excruciating moments, she merely stared at the garment in question with uncertainty. He worried she might reject his offer, as she had done to so many others from him, and the welfare of his sanity as well as his resolve was wholly dependent on removing from his sight the very tempting vision of her figure so scantily clad. He held his breath as he waited and released it in a rush of relief when she finally accepted the garment and quickly draped it about her shoulders.

With another attempt at a reassuring smile, he then gestured towards the tray sitting on the table across the room. "Will you have something to eat?"

His surprise was complete when she hesitated for a few moments before shaking her head. When he inquired as to why, she answered simply, "I am not allowed, Sir."

"Not allowed?"

Again she shook her head, although her eyes betrayed her by once again drifting towards the tray and gazing longingly at its offering.

A sense of dread began to fill him as he watched her. The look in her eyes combined with the thinness he knew to be unnatural to her reminded him of the poor beggar children who panhandled for change on the street. The ones he often would pass off a farthing to as he continued on his way through the lanes of London. "Miss Bennet, when did you last partake of a meal?"

Now unable to tear her eyes from the tray, she quietly repeated, "I am not allowed to eat, Sir."

The dread he felt was quickly being replaced with anger as a clearer picture began to form of what he imagined she had been forced to endure. "Nonsense!" he snapped, instantly regretted his tone when she flinched and returned her eyes to the floor. "Miss Bennet," he continued quietly, "I insist." Gesturing again towards the tray, he encouraged her to follow his lead and take up the plate. "It is my wish that you partake of all that you desire."

It took several moments before she began to waver in her resolve and finally relented. Following him to the table, she cautiously began to pick over the selection upon the tray while he looked about the chamber, distressed to find there was not a chair he could offer for her to sit upon. He had not failed to notice that she was unsteady on her feet and wished for her to sit lest she injure herself. These concerns were further exacerbated as he watched her hand shake terribly as she tried to lift the plate. As delicately as possible, he removed the dish from her tremulous hand and held it steady as she selected several cuts of cold meat and pieces of cheese. And, satisfied that she would eat at least some small amount of food, he led her back to the bed and helped settle her upon it before pouring a glass of wine for her as well.

Retreating once again to the table, he poured another glass for himself and raised it to his lips in an attempt to calm his nerves. However, one sip reminded him of all he had already consumed and his stomach churned in protest at the prospect of imbibing in any more. Returning the glass to the salver, he turned to ensure that she was indeed eating but instead found himself quickly diverted by the sight of her as she savor her food. In fascination, he followed her delicate fingers as they lifted a bite of ham to her lips, and the look of sheer bliss that spread across her face in response to the taste enchanted him. Her lids heavy in ecstasy and the guttural moan of pleasure that rumbled from deep within her set his heart beating faster and faster as his body hummed. He was nearly lost completely when she ran her tongue along her lips, lapping the remnants of flavor from them.

He was certain beyond a shadow of doubt that she was truly ignorant of her response and the effect it had upon him, the effect it would have on any man. His dear, sweet, lovely Elizabeth. Desperate to dispel the lust addling his head, he forced himself to look away and move as far from her as possible. His physical reaction to her presence, to her voice, to everything about her was still as strong as it had been when they were together in Hertfordshire and Kent. A lesser man would allow those urges to take hold of his senses and fully indulge in that which he had paid for. Or, what his cousin had paid for in this case. But despite her assertions otherwise, he was a gentleman, and he would be so tonight more than ever.

He made his way to the fire and absently stoked it in hopes of fashioning more time to cool his ardor and organize his thoughts. He needed to ascertain how she had come to be here and, even more importantly, how to safely get her out of here. While he had never been one to patronize such establishments and was therefore ignorant as to their rules of operation, he acknowledged that they were still a business. And, he was a man of business after all. Surely there must be some arrangement that could be negotiated which would free Elizabeth from this prison.

So lost in his thoughts as he pondered on this question, he failed to notice that she had finished eating, nor that she had consumed the glass of wine he had left beside the bed. When he heard her call his name, he turned to find she was once again standing in the middle of the chamber, looking at the floor before his feet.

"Will you not make yourself comfortable, Sir?" she asked again.

"Of course. My apologies for neglecting you, madam." Making his way back to her, he could feel the effects of the day, which he had been struggling against since White's, begin to weigh more heavily upon him. The heaviness of his head, a result of imbibing too much liquor, had combined with the physical exhaustion caused by too many restless nights when sleep had alluded him. Giving in to the temptation to rest his weary body, he sat heavily upon the bed and leaned forward, settling his arms upon his thighs as he studied the floor between his boots. His mind was desperately trying to find the right words to begin their conversation. Should he begin by asking her how she came to be here? No, that would be far too direct and may result in putting her on the defensive, which would not work in either's favor. Perhaps he could begin by asking her questions about Madame Amelia and see if she could provide him with any information that would aid him in his negotiations? No, that did not seem like the appropriate place to begin either. Perhaps he should explain why he was there? No, absolutely not! He wanted to avoid that discussion as long as possible.

Distracted as he was, he failed to notice her nearness until the hem of her chemise floated into his line of vision. Glancing up, he was startled to find her standing directly before him, his coat having been discarded at some point and her form once again barely concealed from his gaze. His body grew still as she took another step forward, positioning herself between his knees and with graceful fingers began to slowly undo the buttons at the front of the chemise.

Mesmerized, he watched as the fabric parted before him, slowly revealing more of her than he had yet to see. His eyes greedily devoured the sight of her creamy skin as it was uncovered, tracing a line from her delicate collar bones down between her breasts. As another button was undone, he gazed longingly at the contour of her bosom, pursuing the outline of her right breast with his eyes. Desperate to feel the curve of it as it rested in his palm, he began to reach for her.

However, some logical part of his mind was still functioning, commanding him to stop, and more importantly to stop her from revealing any more of herself. The demands were loud enough to force him to realize what he was about and redirect his hands to instead grab both of hers in his own, halting them before they could proceed any further. But he still could not tear his gaze from her. How many times had he battled with himself to avert his eyes when in her company? How often had he spent his nights, alone in his bed, thinking on her supple and inviting figure? How frequently had he both cursed and lauded the fashion of ladies' dresses as he had wrestled with the impulses to allow his gaze to slip? And now here she was before him with her shift half open and the sides of two perfectly rounded breasts tempting him relentlessly.

Slowly, his resistance waned as he leaned closer and closer to her, the scent of her filling his senses. They had tried to mask it with more of that horrid French perfume, but it had not worked. He could still smell the delicious scent of his Elizabeth. As his lips brushed against her skin, basking in the soft, feminine sumptuousness of her, his eyes drifted closed and he lost himself in the pleasure of being so intimately close to her. One kiss quickly begot another as he slowly kissed his way up between her breasts; his hands finding her hips and gently pulling her even closer. Turning his head slightly, his tongue brushed along the side of one breast, tasting the sweetness of her skin, before his lips continued their path upwards. As his thumbs lightly caressed the soft curve of her belly through the fine fabric, he could decipher the sound of a small sigh tumbling from her lips. Slowly, he skimmed his lips along one collar bone before placing more tender kisses up her neck. Lingering for a few moments longer on the pulse beating slowly yet steadily beneath her skin, he drew another sigh from her and smiled against her neck. Finally, he reached the hollow behind her ear and lost himself in the heaven of her curls.

As she moaned in response to his ministrations, so did he and pulling back he looked up into her eyes, but the vision that he was met with shook him to the core. There he found her eyelids were heavy and drooping, though not with passion but with something else entirely, something unnatural. Examining her more closely, he observed that her pupils were small, far too small given the relative dimness of the room, and she seemed unable to focus on him despite his being so close to her. A glassy sheen reflected the firelight behind him and there remained no trace of the brilliance and liveliness that had fascinated him so throughout the length of their acquaintance. Combined with the eerie ghost of a smile that lingered on her lips, he was struck with a sudden and nauseating realization.

She was drugged!


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** We are returning to Elizabeth's POV and again delving into the horrors she has witnessed while in the brothel. Contains references to violence and murder, but details are avoided. If this is difficult subject matter for you (which is fully understandable) I would recommend skipping to after the italicized section.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the sound of footsteps quickly faded, the stillness of the chamber engulfed her, leaving her feeling more isolated and alone than she had yet experienced since arriving in this hell four weeks ago. Since then, she had been constantly surrounded by people as she worked belowstairs, washing what seemed to be an endless supply of bed linens and never allowed a moment to herself. Now, the quiet ticking of the mantle clock and the crackle of the fire were her only companions as she waited.

Through the walls, she could hear the muffled sound of a woman's laugh, a disingenuous and schooled performance designed to flatter the man she was charged with serving. Elizabeth had learned much about false flattery and the ways of men's egos over the past month. Forced to reside amongst the women of Madame Amelia's, her ears had been filled with detailed descriptions of degrading acts and indelicate commentaries on the physicality of men ranging from young to old. Unsolicited advice of the most egregious nature was continuously heaped upon her by the women who believed it their duty to help prepare her for her debut.

Laugh at their witticisms, she had been told. Smile in pleasured anticipation at the sight of their manhood. Appear interested in their conversation, and mask your disgust at their requests. Bring them their release as quickly as possible and enjoy the peace to be had while they slept afterwards. And never, absolutely never attempt to deny their wishes.

The last had been reinforced upon witnessing the brutality which had occurred a fortnight past, when one of the women had suffered horrifically at the hands of a disgruntled client. The screams of anger and the shrieks of pain still rang in Elizabeth's ears as she stood staring at the bed before her. The woman had not only suffered a physical assault on her person by the unhappy patron, but she had then been turned out in the dead of night by Madame Amelia, who would brook no such disobedience in her establishment. Two days later, Elizabeth had walked into the washroom and found two of the younger girls chattering quietly.

_"It can' be true!" Lily exclaimed, dropping the linens in her arms into the wash basin._

_"Ay, tis!" Amy whispered as she finished wringing the dress in her hands. "Geoffrey sai' so. 'Ey foun' 'er in the alley b'ind the Bull 'n' Ox." Lily gasped as tears filled her eyes, but Amy continued anyway without regard to her audiences' reaction. "'E sai' she were choked and foun' naked!"_

_"Poor Emmy!"_

_"Bah poor Emmy! Serve 'er righ' fer disobeying Ma'am Amelia. Always do as we're tol' an' at leas' we got a warm bed fer sleepin' 'n' food in our belly, 'at's whot I says."_

_"But to die in such a way…" Lily whispered as she began to scrub at the stain on the bed sheet. She was soon lost to her thoughts, and did not seem to pay much mind to the rest of Amy's conversation. Elizabeth also was too distracted to attend to the one-sided conversation as she set to work helping Lily._

Elizabeth was drawn from her recollection by the faint sounds of grunting which were becoming increasingly audible through the wall at the head of the bed. Raising the glass to her lips, she took another long draught and tried desperately to close her ears to the happenings in the next chamber. But in the quiet of the room, it was impossible to ignore, and she was forced to listen in agony for a few moments more before a strangled cry of release reverberated through the wall and then finally fell into silence.

Repulsed and dismayed, she again fought the tears that were readily filling her eyes. She did not have long to regain her composure as the sound of voices now approached the chamber door, causing her to drain the last of the wine from her glass. When at last the door opened, she found she could not possibly face Madame Amelia nor the man who had purchased her, the man she had seen only briefly at the auction. Training her eyes on the rug beneath her feet, she realized she did not need to see him to know that he was there. Although silent, his presence filled the room as soon as he entered, and she was unnerved by the unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Shutting out the voices around her, she wondered how long it would be before the powders would begin to take effect. She was already beginning to register the subsidence of pain along her left side, a result of her earlier encounter with the madam. Likewise, the general ache that had plagued her body for the past fortnight also seemed to be ebbing, and she could not help rejoicing at the relief of such discomfort. It may have even been possible that a small smile had graced her lips at that moment, but she would never know for sure. For the first time since her arrival in London and the discovery of the heinous betrayal that had been perpetrated against her, she felt the smallest twinge of relief.

"Miss Bennet."

Her brief moment of contentment was shattered as she was once again made to return her attention to her surroundings. Looking up at the unexpected sound of her name, she finally peered at the man she was to bed. Nothing could have prepared her for the realization that he was to be none other than "Mr. Darcy!"

As they watched each other in silence, the world seem to drop from beneath her feet, and she was left falling even further into confusion and despair. When she had left Kent in April, she was certain they would never have cause to be in each other's presence again. Yet here he stood, not only witness to her degradation but to be the principal player in her moment of irreversible ruination. How was it possible that life could be so cruel? The two men whose attentions she had spurned and whose proposals she had vehemently rejected with blatant disdain were now avenged in the knowledge that she had been reduced to such a place of dishonor.

A knock upon the door drew his attention from her, and she was relieved for the distraction and the few moments it allotted for her to gather her thoughts. However, the smell of food drew all of her concentration to the tray that was being delivered. Her stomach groaned in hunger as she watched the platter being set upon the table and she wondered if she would possibly be afforded the opportunity to pilfer some of the savory meat while he slept.

Slept. The thought served as a reminder of the expectations placed upon her, and she tried to refocus on the man standing before her, watching her closely. Inviting him to make himself comfortable, she struggled to keep her eyes from straying, but the more her stomach twisted the more difficult it became. Unable to meet his gaze and unwilling to allow herself to focus on that which she was not permitted to have, she returned her eyes to the floor. Besides, she did not need to see him to know that he was beginning to remove his clothes, and it was with a heavy heart that she allowed that he was indeed expecting her to submit. The realization of such and his unexpected movement towards her caused her to recoil in response, but the bed prevented her flight. Swaying on her feet as she tried to regain her balance, she felt him grab her arm in an attempt to steady her.

"My apologies, Madam. It was not my intention to startle you. Pray, wear this. It shall help warm you."

Gazing warily at the overcoat, she tried to discern his motive in offering her such, but as the she felt so exposed in the chemise she had been made to wear, she eventually relented and accepted the garment, quickly covering herself and basking in the warmth and shelter it offered. When he then offered her something from the tray, she was truly conflicted. At that moment, it seemed the most difficult task in the world to reject his invitation, but she feared the recourse if Madame Amelia were to discover she had violated the rules.

"I am not allowed, Sir."

"Not allowed?"

Shaking her head, she again forced her eyes away from the temptation and strove to overcome the fierce desire to give in, knowing what the consequences would entail. But he was persistent in his demands, and a small voice reminded her that she had been repeatedly instructed by the madam herself to obey their guests. If he was insisting she eat, then perhaps there would be no recourse? She would simply be following instructions, those of the client and Madame Amelia. Perhaps she could even persuade the gentleman not to mention this.

Emboldened by the small spark of defiance that still burned within her, she decided to take full advantage of the opportunity and followed him to the table. But in reaching for the plate, she was distressed to find that her nerves were still too frayed and her strength too depleted to hold it firmly with one hand. Try as she might, she could not rally the strength needed and was embarrassed when he had to hold it for her.

But her embarrassment was short lived, for as she stood selecting her food a powerful wave of euphoria rolled through her, flooding her body with the most intense sensation of pleasure she had ever experienced. With a rush of relief, the tension in her body was washed away and the anxiety in her mind silenced. It was a most extraordinary thrill, and as she was led back to the bed, she basked in the lightening of her spirit and the first true moment of happiness she had felt since the spring. Her bliss was complete when the first morsel of food touched her tongue, the sweetness of the ham mingling with the saltiness of curing lifting her even higher as the most divine sense of serenity filled her.

Luxuriating in the feeling, she feasted greedily on the food sitting before her, savoring each succulent bite. Pacifying the hunger in her belly, she was reminded how it felt to be fully sated and content, a sensation she had not experienced since her final night at Longbourn when she had last dined with her family. But with the hunger abated, she found her mouth dry and demanding equal satisfaction. Discovering the wine that had been left beside her, she emptied the glass in attempt to slake her thirst, but it was not enough to alleviate the dryness.

Rising from the bed, her eyes began to scan the chamber, looking for the decanter, but were instead arrested by the sight of the gentleman standing before the fireplace. Watching him for a few moments as he poked at the fire, she was reminded of her obligations and knew that the time had indeed arrived. She could not help speculating that perhaps a night spent with Mr. Darcy would not be as appalling as she had been prepared to expect. In the time spent in his company, she had never been given cause to think him a violent man or one prone to debauchery. True, he was the one patronizing a brothel, but she had come to understand this to be the practice of most men. With her body and mind at ease, she also considered that perhaps Madame Amelia had been correct and it would all be over quickly and painlessly. And so, she called to him and again invited him to make himself comfortable.

Feeling her skin flush and her body becoming overheated, she slipped out of his overcoat, letting it fall to the floor as she stood before him. With a carefreeness that seemed impossible only a few minutes earlier, she stepped towards him and began undoing the buttons at the front of the chemise. However, his reaction was lost to her as she was entranced by the sight of the buttons slipping through the eyelets as more of her skin was exposed.

She vaguely registered the feel of his hands as they took hold of hers, but it was quickly forgotten as she watched him slowly lean forward and brush his lips against her skin. What a curious sensation it was indeed to feel another's lips on her skin, and as his breath tickled the sensitive flesh of her bosom, she shuddered gently. But soon she was lost to the feel of him altogether as her mind began to cloud, as if a heavy fog was rolling in from the sea inside her head, accompanied by a growing heaviness in her limbs that made her wish for nothing more than to crawl into bed and rest. In the distance she could hear a voice but she could not for the life of her make out what it was saying. Was it calling her name? Trying to draw her further into the mist? Willingly she followed, succumbing to the temptation to lose herself in the sensation.

And then, the sudden jolt of someone shaking her broke through the haze and she looked down into the concerned face of Mr. Darcy.


	7. Chapter 7

"Miss Bennet?" Mr. Darcy watched with growing concern as her eyelids grew increasingly heavy and her body swayed slightly in his grasp. "Miss Bennet, what have you taken?" When she failed to answer him, he tried calling her name a few times more before finally removing his hands from her hips to grab her shoulders and shake her gently. It took several attempts and increasingly forceful jerks before she finally responded, glaring down at him with an expression similar to that of a disgruntled child.

Uncertain as to how cognizant she she was of her current state, he tried to reach her through the haze. "Miss Bennet, you appear incapacitated, possibly the result of some tonic or other such tincture. Will you not tell me what you have ingested?" Again her manner reminded him more of a small child than that of a grown woman as she shrugged nonchalantly. "Was it laudanum?"

"No, Sir. Twas the powders."

"Powders? What powders?"

"Madame Amelia's powders." Her eyelids were beginning to droop again as she swayed slightly beneath his hands. With another small shake, he brought her back to him.

"How much did you consume?"

"I do not know, Sir. They were in my wine."

"Have you taken them before?"

Feeling a small measure of relief when she shook her head in the negative, he struggled to determine the best course of action. Her body was rocking gently as it surrendered to the drug, and he knew he needed to get her settled before she collapsed. Rising from the bed, he maneuvered her into sitting upon the mattress but hesitated at the prospect of having to adjust her shift. Already mortified by his temporary loss of self-control, to further violate such boundaries of propriety was completely unacceptable. But how does a gentleman politely ask an impaired maiden to cover her partially exposed breasts? For all the rules of etiquette which had been pressed upon him since childhood, this was certainly one circumstance for which Society had failed to prepare him!

After a few more moments of contemplation on the issue, he finally decided the embarrassment of asking far outweighed the likelihood of her remembering his actions. Leaning forward, he completed the task as deftly as he could before reaching around her to turn down the duvet. He encouraged her to make herself comfortable and then turned his back to allow her some modicum of privacy as she crawled into the bed. Making his way to the decanter of wine, he hoped to find some remnant of these powders of which she had spoken, or at the very least some other clue that could help him discern what had been given. However, there was none to be found there, and her wine glass was still sitting on the bedside table where he had placed it before his retreat to the fireplace. Waiting a few moments more, he hazarded a glanced over his shoulder and was relieved to find her tucked into bed with the sheets pulled over her. Her glass, though now empty, was indeed still resting upon the table, but there was no information to be gathered from that either as it both smelled and tasted only of wine.

"How are you faring, Miss Bennet? Are you feeling unwell?"

"Mmmmm, feels wonderful," she murmured as she sunk further into the bedding. "So lovely..."

Calling her name again, he attempted to regain her attention, "Who else has taken these powders?"

"We all do." Her answer was whispered so quietly that he had to move another step closer to the bed to hear her. When he inquired as to how frequently the women indulged in these powders, he struggled to make out her answer, mumbled so disjointedly as it was. "...Two bits. Do not have... Need... Will you let me two, Sir?"

"Miss Bennet, I am afraid I have not the pleasure of understanding you. Two bits for what?"

"The powders,"she murmured quietly.

It was becoming increasingly apparent to a frustrated Mr. Darcy that he would not be able to glean much more information from the young lady. Whatever she had ingested now held her firmly under its spell. Encouraging her to rest, he once again withdrew to the fireplace as he compiled a mental list of the symptoms she had exhibited. But his knowledge in the area of intoxicating substances was as negligible as that of his experience in brothels. Sadly, this too was a situation better suited to Edward's lifestyle than his own.

_The sound of a loud crash had jolted him from his slumber, causing him to drop to the floor the book that had been resting in his lap. Looking around the darkened room, he was able to discern that he was still sitting in the library at Matlock House and must have once again fallen asleep while reading. It had become a bit of a habit over the year since his mother's passing, one his father had not deemed necessary to check. Stretching his aching muscles, he tried to locate the source of the racket, but as it sounded again he realized it was coming from somewhere beyond the walls of the library. Rising from the uncomfortable chair, he made his way through the darkness and into the hall stretching along the second level of the house._

_He could now make out the sound of voices coming from the lower floor, and as he made his way to the staircase, he encountered a sight which he would never forget. His cousin Edward, who was home on holiday during his first year of university, was stumbling across the foyer as two footmen attempted to assist him safely to his chamber. They had almost reached the stairs when Lord Matlock and his father emerged from one of the rooms nearby and took in the state of the young man._

_"Edward! What on earth have you been into?"_

_From his position on the landing above, he had been unable to hear the answer, but the look of anger that flooded his uncle's face in response was enough to convey the general idea. The argument that ensued was the first of its kind to be witnessed by the young Mr. Darcy, and it had served as an education in language that he had never heard uttered before. Throughout the ugly confrontation, he had looked to his father for a better understanding of what was occurring and was not left unaffected by the expression of disgust and disappointment that marked the elder Mr. Darcy's brow._

_Then, a flurry of activity erupted as Edward suddenly stopped in the middle of another long tirade against his father and doubled over, spilling the contents of his stomach on the marble floor. There were shouts to the footmen standing by to fetch rags as his uncle rushed to his son's side. Hearing the exclamation of horror from Lord Matlock upon seeing blood dripping from his son's lips, his own father stepped in to take control of the situation and directed the nearest footman to fetch the doctor immediately._

_It had taken several minutes before it became possible to transport Edward to his chamber and fetch Lady Matlock to her son's bedside. As the the group had made their way up the stairs, Fitzwilliam had moved to the side to remain out of sight. But as his father followed the group to the landing, he spotted his own heir lingering in the shadows. They had watched each other for a few moments, before Mr. Darcy approached his son in silence and pulled him into a tight embrace. There was no need for words that night as both understood the dangers of Edward's actions. Neither Darcy would be able to endure another loss in their family._

The sound of sheets rustling drew his attention back to the bed, and he was quite surprised to find Elizabeth had grown more lucid and was staring at the canopy hanging above her. She had drawn the sheet down enough to tuck it beneath her arms and her hands, which now rested on her belly, were plucking absentmindedly at a loose thread. When he called her name, she turned her head slightly to let him know she had heard him, but not enough to let him take in her face.

"Do you feel unwell? Would you care for some more to eat?"

Silently, she shook her head and continued to gaze up at the canopy. Eventually, in a voice weak from either the powders or shyness he knew not which, she asked, "Will you not come to bed, Sir?"

"No, madam," he answered quietly. "I will not be sharing your bed tonight."

For whatever reaction he had expected in response to his statement, the one he received was most certainly not one of them.

"Why, Sir? Are you displeased with your purchase?" With that she finally turned her head to look at him, her face devoid of any emotion or concern. He could not even detect a trace of curiosity which would accompany such a question.

A gentle smile touched his lips as he pondered on the absurdity of her question. Displeased with Elizabeth? Impossible. But for as much as he desired her and despite the loneliness and hopelessness that had consumed him since Hunsford, he was a man of honor. He would never have her come to him under such circumstance. His displeasure was real to be sure, but it was with every aspect of this situation apart from her.

"Not at all. It is indeed my very great pleasure to provide you with a night of rest and peace after what I am sure has been a most harrowing experience." Slowly, he approached the bed and finally gave voice to the question that had so plagued him throughout the evening. "I know you would never come to an establishment such as this by choice. Pray Miss Bennet, will you not tell me what has brought you here?"

Without hesitation she simply answered, "Mr. Collins."

"Mr. Collins?!" The unexpectedness of the answer physically knocked him back a step, as if she had actually reached out and struck him. "How is that possible?"

"He sold me to her. I was to be a governess," she explained. "When I arrived in London, I found that not to be the case at all."

A coldness engulfed him, settling into the pit of his stomach as he listened to her. Whether it resulted from the discovery of such betrayal at the hands of one's family or the eerie calmness and detachment with which she discussed it, he could not know. In his heart, he hoped that such an absence of emotion must be the result of the drugging, for he could not live with the thought that his lovely and spirited, kind and selfless Elizabeth had been destroyed by the likes of such a man.

"But what of your family?"

"Papa died in April. We have been living on the charity of Mr. Collins ever since."

"I am grieved indeed," he cried, "grieved – shocked. How can a man of the cloth behave in such a manner? And to his own family? Why?" The questions tumbled from his lips as quickly as they rose in his mind.

"These are questions I have asked many times myself."

They allowed the conversation to lull into silence as both thought upon all that had been said. Eventually the sound of a stifled yawn, drew him from his thoughts and he noted the way her eyes were beginning to lag again. "My apologies, I should not be keeping you awake. Rest."

"I am not allowed."

Would the surprises never cease! His mind harkened back to their earlier exchange over the tray of food, and he felt his ire rising as his body tensed again. "You are not allowed to sleep? Pray, when were you last allowed a night's sleep?"

He could tell she was struggling against the drowsiness as she answered. "Saturday. I have not been allowed rest since my attempted flight. But these three days past have been particularly difficult."

"Attempted flight? You tried to escape?" For brief moment, a glimmer of humor touched his eyes. Yes, this was certainly still the same young woman he had come to know and love all those months ago. Miss Elizabeth Bennet would never be one to cower and accept such a fate without a fierce fight.

"Aye, the scullery maid left the door to the kitchen open while she empty the slop buckets and the footmen were not about. I had nearly attained King's Street before Geoffrey captured me."

"Geoffrey?"

"A footman." Then she turned back to the canopy and her lids began to slide. When he inquired after her health yet again, she begged pardon and tried to reopen her eyes.

"Pray, sleep Miss Bennet. Tomorrow, we will find a way to remove you from this place." He watched as her eyes drift closed while he spoke, and he could not be sure she had actually heard his words. But, it mattered little as she finally gave in to the drowsiness.

Moving back towards the fireplace, he mulled over all he had been told. How she had suffered since last they met! The loss of a most beloved father was an experience he understood all too well, but to then suffer such an egregious betrayal at the hands of one's very own blood was insupportable! How would a parson even have the connections needed to devise such a deception? As he digested the story, he was relieved to finally have uncovered one important piece of information which would assist him in moving forward.

Madame Amelia had purchased her from her cousin. Now, he would just have to discover at what price she would be willing to sell Elizabeth to him.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note:** Once again, this chapter gets kind of rough as Elizabeth thinks back on a violent encounter with Madame Amelia. If you wish to avoid that portion of the story, skip over the italicized section. The rest of the chapter is safe, I promise!  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashes of light dancing upon her eyelids slowly drew Elizabeth from her deep slumber. As she lay quietly in bed listening to the stillness around her, she began to register a persistent ache that seemed to permeate her entire being. It was a feeling she had believed herself accustomed to after weeks of both hard labor and physical harassment, but this went even beyond what she had come to expect as a daily part of her life now. A throbbing pain ran along her left side, and she found it only increasingly distressing as her breathing heightened in response. After attempting to take a deep breath in hopes quelling some of the discomfort, she found herself only wincing and letting slip a quiet whimper.

Immediately, the faint sound of someone moving nearby drew her attention, distracting her at least briefly from the pain. Cautiously, she opened her eyes only to find the sun from the window shining into her face, obscuring her vision. She had to blink several times and shift away from the beams trailing across the bed before she could begin to fully take in her surroundings.

Her first observation was that she was not on her cot in the washroom beside the kitchen. She was in fact in one of the bed chambers upstairs, lying in a sea of clean, white linens. The rich emerald walls and golden bed curtains which surrounded her created an elegant and lush atmosphere while the dark wood of the bedposts added a sense of warmth which made the whole room feel inviting. But all at once, the full implications of where she was crashed heavily down upon her as vague snippets of memories began to surface. Panic filled her as she scanned the room, searching for Mr. Darcy, and was unprepared for the sight she was met with when he was finally spotted.

Sitting on the floor beside the fireplace, he was propped up against the wall and sound asleep. He was dressed in his shirtsleeves, his tailcoat having been discarded and his waistcoat unbuttoned, while his untied cravat was draped about his neck. The shadow of a day's growth covered his chin and cheeks, further accentuating the fine cut of his features. It was the most informally attired she had ever seen a gentleman, other than her father. However, the rest of his clothes were in proper order, down to the boots which he was still wearing. Why would he completely redress after…?

Finally, the most important pieces of her memory surfaced and she was flooded with a strong sense of relief as she remembered that he had let her be. He had not taken that which had been paid for; she had been spared! But her reprieve was to be short-lived as her treacherous mind added: for now. Tonight she would be expected to assume her place in the drawing rooms below, and that was only if Madame Amelia did not realize that she remained a virgin still.

Would there be another auction tonight if such were the case? Or would she suffer the repercussions of not fulfilling her duty? Even though she had not requested the forbearance, would it ultimately matter when the madam discovered her newest client had not received the services for which he had paid? Perhaps she was supposed to be more forward and engage in the flirtations and seduction which she had been taught to entice him into bed?

As she lay quietly among the unsullied bed sheets, her mind spun and twisted in turmoil and anxiety.

_Geoffrey's grip was like a vice upon her arm as he dragged her roughly through the alley behind the brothel, pushing through the crowd on his way back to the kitchen's entrance. She fought with all her strength to free herself of his hand, hoping that she would be able to flail about enough to wrench herself loose and disappear into the throngs of people milling about the streets. But he would not relent and soon she was dragged unceremoniously through the kitchen door, her cries for help falling on disinterested ears. Grabbing her about the waist, he then hauled her into the washroom, throwing her onto her cot in the corner with particular brutality before storming out of the room to make way for Madame Amelia._

_The madame was enraged and hurled a slew of curses at Elizabeth as she reached for her, grabbing her firmly by the hair and dragging her from the cot. Wrestling her to the floor, the madame pinned her upon her belly, pressing her cheek against the cold, damp stone slabs of the washroom floor. "How dare you try to flee from me?" She bellowed. "You are my property, bought and paid for and a most expensive investment at that! Do not dare attempt another such escape or I shall make you and your family suffer more than you could ever imagine."_

_Gripping her hair tightly, Madame Amelia wrenched her head back then, forcing her to meet the cold, hard eyes of evil. Again, Elizabeth tried to struggle against the hold but the next words spat upon her by the madam froze her to her core._

_"What a shame it would be if something terrible were to befall that lovely sister of yours residing over on Chesterfield Street. Jane I believe her name is, is that not so?"_

_When Elizabeth refused to answer, the grip on her hair became even tighter, the prickling pain bringing tears to her eyes. "She would be rather popular among our gentlemen. A classic beauty in every sense, is she not? Or perhaps one of your younger sisters? There are three more of them I understand." With that, her face was once again thrust against the stones beneath her as the madam dug her knees harder into her back, bending to hiss into her ear. "I will receive the return on my investment in you, my dear, either through your work or that of one of your sisters. I have no doubt that Geoffrey will be most happy to help any one of them find their way here if the need becomes necessary."_

_With those final words, she spit into Elizabeth's face before rising and storming from the room, slamming and locking the door behind her._

A shudder of fear gripped her at the memory, sending another stabbing pain shooting through her side. Another whimper, louder than the first, escaped her lips and this time she was not the only one to hear it. A slight moan alerted her to Mr. Darcy's awakening, and she watched in concern as he rolled his head back to rest against the wall, wincing in pain. For a few moments, he massaged his temples gently and groaned before slowly stretching his stiff muscles as each part of his body came alive. Looking about the room confusedly, his eyes finally settled upon her lying in bed and watching him.

Scrambling to his feet as quickly as possible, he managed to execute a proper bow and greeted her, "Miss Bennet."

"Mr. Darcy."

"How are you faring this morning? I hope you are not feeling any ill effects from the-," he stopped suddenly, appearing uncertain as to how to conclude his sentence. Finally, he finished weakly. "Are you well?"

"As well as one can be, I suppose," she answered. Feeling uncomfortable lying in bed while a gentleman was in the room, she thought to also rise to her feet. However, she was quickly reminded of the state of her undress when she began to move and felt the silkiness of the chemise rub against her skin. Instead, she pulled the blankets up beneath her chin and tried to settle back against the headboard. But when she tried to sit up, the sharp pain in her side screamed in protest and she gasped as the blinding pain caused white spots to explode behind her eyes.

"Miss Bennet, whatever is the matter? Are you injured?" He rushed forward before his sense of decency could remind him that such an action was inappropriate. When she recoiled in surprise, he seemed to once again gain control of himself and took several steps back.

"Tis nothing, Sir," she lied before tenderly shifting her body to rest against the headboard. Clasping the bed sheets tightly about her, she demurred, "Pray, do not trouble yourself. I am well."

Silence once again descended on the room as they both appeared to be at a loss as to what to say or do next. However, sounds from the next chamber soon invaded the quiet, making the situation even more uncomfortable. The rhythmic tapping of a headboard against the wall accompanied by the faint sounds of panting, caused Mr. Darcy to first appear confused before then blushing furiously red and retreating to the window. Elizabeth had no such course for escape and instead closed her eyes tightly and tried to will away all that had happened to her since April. They remained in that attitude for several humiliating minutes before the noises next door ceased and the chamber once again was filled with silence.

After what seemed a lifetime, he spoke. "Miss Bennet, it is my in-"

But he was unable to finish as a discreet knock sounded at the chamber door. Turning from the window, he appeared frustrated at being unable to complete his thought but resigned to as much he crossed the chamber, opening the door wide enough to see who was intruding upon their privacy. After a moment, he opened it fully and invited whoever it was to enter. Elizabeth's chest tightened as she watched Madame Amelia breeze into the room.

"I do hope, Sir, that you have enjoyed your night with us. Pray, may we anticipate the pleasure of your company again soon?" The madam was all simpering smiles as she subtly surveyed the rooms, no doubt searching for signs of anything being amiss.

"No, madam."

Elizabeth's eyes widened in horror as she looked to him, her mouth agape. Returned was the stony façade and expression of disdain that had so marked his countenance throughout their acquaintance. His displeasure was palpable, as was that of the madame as Elizabeth felt her steely gaze settling upon her.

"I have no intention of patronizing your establishment again. Such are not to my taste, and I believe I was fortunate enough to have already found that which I sought."

Further confused by the strange turn of the conversation, Elizabeth's eyes darted quickly between Mr. Darcy and the madame, uncertain of what was happening and more importantly what it would mean for her once he was gone and the need for pretense was dismissed.

"How much?" He asked simply, eliciting a shocked silence from both women. Elizabeth's stomach began to churn as she struggled against the small spark of hope his words had ignited. Secretly, in the depths of her heart, she had hoped from the first moment she saw him that he could be the salvation for which she had so desperately been praying. But afraid of the despair which would crush her if he was not, she had struggled to snuff out that flame of hope.

Stuttering slightly, it took a few moments for Madame Amelia to collect herself. "My apologies, Sir. I have not the pleasure of understanding you."

"How much to purchase her from you," he answered, as if uncertain how his question could be interpreted in any other way.

"Again, I must beg pardon, Sir. It is a most unusual request. If you quite favor her, we can certainly come to some arrangement to ensure she shall be at your disposal when so desired. If you wish her to be reserved solely for-"

Making his frustration evident, Mr. Darcy shifted his weight from one foot to another while fixing upon the madam with a stare that brooked no argument as he interrupted her. "Madame, I am a man who is used to getting all I desire when I desire it. I have no interest in sharing that which is mine with any lowly wasteabout who happens to grace your threshold." Taking a deep breath, he continued in a tone devoid of any patience or interest in further debate. "It is a mistress I desire, one who is mine and mine alone, and whom I can indulge in discreetly and at my leisure wherever my travels take me. This young woman suits my tastes perfectly and I am in no humor to haggle. Name your price, Madame, and let us be done with it."

As Elizabeth sat in awe, her mind reeled. In tense apprehension, she watched as Madame Amelia's eyes first examined the gentleman, studying him for a few moments as she mulled over her options, before then settling upon her. Would she be tempted? She had repeatedly described Elizabeth as a trial and more trouble than she was worth. She had been defiant and stubborn in the face of the madame's authority, prolonging her debut by several weeks. The amount of effort it had taken to wear Elizabeth down had been an ordeal.

After what again felt like a lifetime of silence, the madam turned back to Mr. Darcy and calmly delivered her answer, "Five hundred pounds."

Elizabeth gasped at such a sum, filling with dread as she felt her chance for escape quickly fading. But the dread was promptly replaced with wonder as Mr. Darcy answered without hesitation.

"We have a deal, madam."


	9. Chapter 9

Both women gasped at his easy acquiescence to Madame Amelia's terms. While Elizabeth sat in silence, her mouth gaping like that of a fish stranded upon the shore, the madame gathered herself quickly to resumed the negotiations, most likely attempting to seize the opportunity before he had the time to change his mind. "Very well. She will, of course, remain here with us until such time as our transaction can be completed."

"Of course. I shall return in no more than two hours. I wish her fed and rested in the interim; she is of no use to me famished and weak. She is not to be removed from this chamber nor touched by another while I am away. If she is, I shall consider the contract broken and will resume my search elsewhere. Have I made myself clear, madam?"

"Perfectly, Sir."

"And please see that she is brought a respectable gown in which to dress."

Madame Amelia bowed her head in acknowledgement and removed herself to attend to his demands. As the door closed behind her, Mr. Darcy turned back towards the bed and began buttoning his waistcoat. Seeing the disquiet in her eyes, he rushed to reassure her and finally convey his intentions before they could be interrupted again.

"I wish I did not have to leave you here for even a moment, but I assure you I will return as swiftly as I can. We will remove to my townhouse where I shall have my doctor fetched to attend to you. Try as you may, madam, I am not ignorant of the pain you are clearly suffering under." He paused to take in the becoming blush that colored her cheeks at having her deception so easily discerned. "It is my understanding you have an uncle who resides in town?"

Her eyes snapped back to his, and he watched as they once again began to shine with the unshed tears pooling within them. "Yes, Sir!"

"If you will provide me with his name and address, I shall seek him out once you are settled in the safety of my home. It is my hope that we will be able to arrange a return to your family at the earliest possible moment and without drawing any unwanted attention in doing so."

"Oh, Sir! Thank you!" The tears choking her voice conveyed the great depth of gratitude and relief this information had stirred within her. He was enchanted by the vision of her eyes as they glistened and once again a hint of the sparkle which had nearly been extinguished by this horrid place returned to her eyes.

They watched each other in silence for a few moments before he finally withdrew to the mirror to begin retying his cravat. He had been taken unawares by the ease with which the negotiations had been conducted and that they were done with such rapidity. He had been uncertain how much the madame would demand, but he had been prepared to pay any price to set her free. While he was not in any way at ease with the prospect of leaving her here for even an hour or two, he had been realistic in his expectations. Why would a woman of business allow a precious commodity to leave her sight before the money had changed hands? No, he knew that he would have to leave Elizabeth's side however briefly, and he meant it when he said he would return as quickly as possible.

As he was putting the finishing touches on his cravat, a knock upon the door drew him from the mirror. Quietly he watched as the madame returned, followed by another young woman carrying a tray of food. He noted with satisfaction that this selection was of much better quality than that which had been served the night before, not to mention with more than enough for two. The madame also held within her hands a gown and undergarments for Elizabeth to dress.

Setting the garments on the bed, she turned her attention to the gentleman and once again smiled graciously, "Is there anything else I can do for you, Sir?"

"Yes, have a cab hailed for me and alert me when it is ready."

"As you wish," and with a curtsey she was gone.

Donning his tailcoat and then lifting his overcoat from where it had spent the night on the floor, he shook it out repeatedly before shrugging into it. "Pray, avail yourself of the tray. I will not tarry and hope to return for you within two hours. Is there any other comfort I can request for you before I go? Do you need someone to assist you to dress?"

"No, Sir. I would rather not have anyone attend me." She cast her eyes about the room for a few moments as she hugged the bed sheets closer. "I do not know how I will ever be able to repay your kindness, Sir. Nor such a sum as you are-"

"Pray, do not make yourself uneasy, Miss Bennet. A great wrong has been perpetrated against you, and I am immensely grateful to be able to assist you in escaping from this torment. There is nothing which need be repaid."

"But Sir! Five hun-" But she was again prevented from saying any more as he again interrupted.

"Pray, think on it no more, madam. Seeing you safely restored to your family is all the reparation I require." He was then drawn to the door by another discreet knock. Upon being informed a carriage was awaiting him, he turned to look once more at Elizabeth, leaning back against the headboard with the sheets wrapped securely about her and her waves of chocolate curls cascading about her shoulders. It was an image he was sure he would never forget for as long as he drew breath.

Smiling gently, he quit the room and silently followed Madame Amelia back through the hallway and down the servants' stairs. Resolutely avoiding any further conversation with the woman, he pulled the brim of his beaver further down over his brow as they walked to the door, and saying only enough to reassure her that he would return shortly, he made his way out the house and quickly into the waiting carriage.

The first stop he needed to make was a return to his home in order to change into more presentable attire and to set his staff to work preparing for Elizabeth's arrival. However, he had no desire for the cab driver, who most certainly knew what type of establishment he had just exited from, to be alerted to his address and therefore his identity. Directing the man to take him only a few streets away, he watched in silence as they crossed back into a respectable business district before knocking on the ceiling and requested to be let out. Once the carriage was out of view, he promptly waved down another cab to complete his journey back to Berkeley Square.

The spectacle of the master returning home in the early hours of the morning, smelling strongly of perfume and drink, was certainly a scene to behold and one which would fuel the gossip among the servants for days to come. Unlike much of the Ton who so often engaged in raucous and debauched behavior, serving as the fodder for gossip and scandal, the Master was known by his staff to be an upstanding, principled gentleman who enjoyed a quiet and staid life. Always mindful in his selection of friends and social engagements, he was never one to stay out too late nor find himself entangled in the intrigues which Society thrived upon. While many servants to the First Circle were so often to be heard lamenting the trials of working under such wild and erratic personages, the servants for the Darcys were always so very grateful and content in their service to a family so stable and peaceful. So, it was a quite a shock indeed to see the Master return home in such a state of dishevelment!

Handing his great coat and hat to the footman, he inquired as to the whereabouts of Mrs. Chadwick.

"I believe she is overseeing the preparations for Miss Darcy's arrival, Sir," answered Mr. Hawkins, the Darcys' butler. "Shall I summons her, Sir?"

"Yes, and Mr. Fletcher as well. Also, have the servants' carriage prepared." Ignoring the look of astonishment that even the stoic Mr. Hawkins could not entirely mask, he continued, "I have an important matter to attend to and do not wish to draw attention to my movements." Signaling for the butler to follow him as he made for the stairs, he explained further. "This is a very delicate matter and discretion is of the utmost importance. The reputation of an innocent young woman is at stake, and I will rely upon you and Mrs. Chadwick to quell all gossip among the staff and ensure the young lady is treated with the utmost respect and dignity which she is due."

"Of course, Sir!" Mr. Hawkins exclaimed, offended at the implication that any guest of Mr. Darcy's would be treated otherwise no matter how she came to be at the house.

However, Mr. Darcy was determined to do all he could to protect Miss Bennet, even if it meant shocking his household with her arrival. "She has been the victim of a most heinous betrayal, and I do not wish what anyone bears witness to today to cloud their judgment of this young lady or set tongues wagging belowstairs. She is a gentleman's daughter and a woman of superior sense and character."

"Of course, Sir. There is not one among us who would expect any differently from an acquaintance of yours, Sir."

"Very well. Pray, ensure the carriage is ready to leave within the quarter hour and ask Mrs. Chadwick to await me in my study."

Making his way to his chamber, he was not surprised to find that Fletcher was already waiting for him, having anticipated his master's intentions. Always impeccable in both dress and manner, his trusted valet hid his curiosity at the sight of his master so disordered well. As he was repeatedly instructed to hurry in preparing his employer for the day, the task was executed in such a manner as to have Mr. Darcy on his way to his study within fifteen minutes.

Arriving at the door, he found Mrs. Chadwick waiting for him, and silently she followed him into the room.

"Mrs. Chadwick, I do not have time to explain, but I need you to see to it that a chamber is readied immediately for a guest. It is my hope to return with her within an hour or so. I have already spoken with Mr. Hawkins, but I will require your assistance as well."

Taking a quick breath, he repeated his instructions concerning the treatment the young lady was to receive and warned against allowing the servants under her direction to speak ill of or gossip about her. As he spoke however, he did not fail to notice the subtle hints of censure filling the eyes of his faithful housekeeper. Her unmarried master was to bring an unchaperoned young woman into the townhouse in the early hours of the morning after he had been out all night. And, demanded a bed chamber be readied for her!

"I assure you, Mrs. Chadwick, there is nothing untoward about to occur under your roof." Unable to resist the temptation to do so, he employed the smile which had served to spare him from numerous punishments as a young boy. Living under the watchful eye of the formidable housekeepers, Mrs. Reynold's at Pemberely and Mrs. Chadwick in London, there was never much mischief the young Master Darcy could get away with as a growing boy. And although he was now a grown man and master of the house, that still seemed to mean little in the face of either's disapprobation.

A slight shift in her demeanor told him the smile had once again served him well, but he grew serious as he continued, "She is a most honorable and kind young lady, and I intend no harm or dishonor against her. She is in need of a safe haven until we can return her to her family."

After surveying him for a few moments longer, the housekeeper finally relented and bowed her head in recognition of his wishes.

"Thank you, Mrs. Chadwick."

Upon leaving the housekeeper to her task, he made his way to the courtyard and was relieved to see the carriage ready for his departure. Calling the coachman away from the grooms, he drew the man far enough away to ensure their conversation would not be overhead.

"Our first stop will be the bank, and I shall be carrying on my person a considerable sum. Have you your pistol?"

"As always, Sir."

"Excellent. What shall happen next you are not to repeat. To do so will result in immediate dismissal from my service." He paused for a moment as the coachman's eyes grew wide in response and he shifted nervously from one foot to another in his unease. "This is a situation requiring a great deal of discretion, and you are the only one who shall ever know where we are about to travel. You are never to repeat where we have been. Your years of excellent service to this family leave me in no doubt of your prudence, and I assure you it is merely the direness of this situation which would lead me to say as much."

After the coachmen nodded his understanding, and stood a little taller at the expression of trust and appreciation received from his master, he bowed and mounted the carriage. Following closely behind, Mr. Darcy boarded as well and settled back against the cushions as the carriage lurched forward, setting off with all due haste for the bank.


	10. Chapter 10

For the first time in her life, the sound of the door lock sliding closed filled Elizabeth Bennet with great jubilation. She was saved! As the tears in her eyes threatened to spill forth in her elation, she struggled to regain control of her emotions. Over the past month, she had learned in the most difficult way imaginable not to take for granted the harsh unexpectedness of life. She could not allow herself to rejoice until she was fully and safely free from the walls of this wretched place.

The smell of fresh food was calling to her as her stomach groaned in hunger, and rising slowly from the bed, she made her way to the tray. The sight of so many sweet and savory offerings made her mouth water in anticipation; she had not been presented with such a feast since Longbourn. Even before her restriction to bread and cheese in punishment for her attempt to escape, her meals had consisted of little compared to that which she was accustom. A piece of meat and a hot roll had been the extent of her morning meals. But before her now was a tray overflowing with muffins and cold meats, plumb cake and eggs. Even a pot of chocolate had been provided for their pleasure. Greedily, she filled a plate and retreated to the window to eat as she watched King Street pass below her.

Although her lips were well occupied in devouring her food, her thoughts were soon otherwise engaged. Was she truly saved from her despair? Mr. Darcy had promised her in earnest that she would be returned to her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, but how soon was such a reunion to be achieved? What would happen to her after she was returned to her family? Surely, she could not return to Longbourn and the authority of Mr. Collins, but her uncle, though a successful businessman, certainly could not afford to take on the expense of supporting a grown woman in what was sure to be her spinsterhood. And what of her sisters? Clearly none of them were safe while under his charge, but what other alternative was there to be had? How were they to be rescued from his care and supported in a respectable manner, one which would provide for them until they were safely settled into marriage?

These thoughts plagued her as she ate, but try as she might, there simply were not any answers to be had. Defeated by the impossibility of the situation, her thoughts then shifted to her savior, Mr. Darcy. Five hundred pounds! Such a sum to forfeit in assistance to a woman so wholly unconnected to him! What would drive him to agree to such outrageous terms? Unwilling to believe that he could care for her still after the horrid accusations she had hurled at him at Hunsford, she desperately sought another answer.

Naïve no longer, she fully understood what tempted gentlemen to an establishment such as Madame Amelia's. He was of course a young, virile man who had at his disposal the means to pursue the pleasures of the flesh without risking entanglement or scandal. But that did not make his declaration that it was a mistress he sought any less shocking for Elizabeth to hear, and a small part of her wondered if there was some amount of truth to all he had said. Had he come to the brothel last night in search of a mistress for his exclusive use?

The thought of such made her stomach churn, as she did not want to imagine such a lack of morality possible in her redeemer. If there was one man in the world whom she wished to think no ill of at that moment in time, it was Mr. Darcy. However, her recent exposure to the evils of this world made it impossible for her to not question him and his intentions. What if he was, in all actuality, telling the complete truth? What if he did wish for her to serve as his mistress? Five hundred pounds was more than twice the annual income her mother and sisters received following Papa's death. While he was a wealthy man to be sure, that was simply too much.

Consumed with these dark thoughts, she began to quietly pace the chamber. Finding the garments still lying upon the bed, she glanced down at her attire and quickly divested herself of the chemise, as if the very feel of it burned her skin. Hastily, she covered herself with the proper shift she had been provided before making work of the petticoat and stays. One advantage to being raised as one of five sisters with only one maid to attend them was knowing how to easily dress oneself, stays included. She was quite pleased to discover that they actually served to ease some of the discomfort which had been bedeviling her since she first awoke; however, when she donned the gown she had been given, her distress returned as she found the cut too low for her modesty. Struggle as she may, she could not adjust the clothing in any such way as to make her feel comfortable enough to face Mr. Darcy again.

Resigning herself to further humiliation before the gentleman, she again withdrew to the window to await his arrival, absentmindedly working her hair into a simple knot. If Mr. Darcy meant her any dishonour, why would he promise to return her to her uncle? For surely a restoration to her family would no longer leave her unprotected, and therefore with no need to assume a position of such disgrace as a gentleman's mistress. Was he perhaps depending upon her feelings of gratitude or some other sense of obligation to compel her into fulfilling her end of the arrangement? No. No, this was foolishness. Mr. Darcy was a man of honour. If nothing else, not his letter to her in April nor the accounts of him gained from his friends and family had proven otherwise, his actions the previous night had shown him to be as much. She could hold no doubt that he was a man whom she could trust and rely upon to do all that was proper and right. Right?

Her thoughts continued in this vein for she knew not how long, as countless workers and thieves, beggars and miscreants moved back and forth along the street below. More questions arising with each passing minute, but none receiving a satisfactory answer. Eventually, she was roused from her deliberations by the sound of the door unlocking and looking at the mantle clock realized that nearly two hours had passed since he had left. Her heart in her throat, she turned to face the chamber door, uncertain who it would be crossing the threshold. Her stomach dropped as Madame Amelia entered the bedchamber, her face painted in a false display of kindness and affability. But, she was followed immediately by Mr. Darcy, who strode with confidence into the room, his eyes seeking her out. In that moment, she knew she was free.

Once again brimming with joy and battling her tears, she watched as he gestured towards the door, an invitation for her to precede him from the room. She was only too happy to accede, maintaining a wide berth as she passed the madame and made her way into the hall. Keeping her eyes on the floor as they moved along the corridor, she could feel the presence of the gentleman close beside her, too close for propriety. But as his presence brought only comfort, she found herself wishing he were even closer. Drawing on his strength and the assurance with which he moved, she felt her courage rise as each step brought her closer to freedom. In silence, they descended the servants' stairs and made their way towards the front of the house, only raising her eyes when she knew the front door to be in sight. As it opened before her, she released all pretense of calmness and rushed forward, hurrying passed Thomas and down the steps leading to the street, unwilling to stop lest some cruel twist of fate tried to once again pull her back into the darkness. So intent as she was on heading straight towards the waiting carriage, she was surprised to find that Mr. Darcy had overtaken her, reaching it before she. Opening the door and reaching for her hand, he assisted her in mounting the steps, and as she did she could not stop herself from turning upon him a look of such unadulterated delight and infinite gratitude. For no words could ever adequately express all she felt towards him in that moment.


	11. Chapter 11

Before the gentleman had even taken his seat, he rapped his walking stick against the ceiling and the carriage lurched forward brusquely. Settling against the cushions on the bench across from her, he inquired after her well-being and asked, "And you were not disturbed while I was away?"

"No, Sir," she answered, shifting uncomfortably as the gentle jostling of the carriage further agitated the ache in her side. Turning her attention to the window, she watched as the carriage turned from King Street, each clop of the horse's hooves taking her further and further from the hell to which she had been damned. From the corner of her eye, she observed Mr. Darcy as he removed his overcoat and graciously accepted his offer for her to once again drape it about herself, wrapping her in warmth and shelter. Swathed in the heat and, if she were to be honest, pleasantly masculine scent of the gentleman, she returned her attention to the scenes passing by the window. In silence, they both watched as the carriage made its way through the streets of London, returning to the more respectable districts of business. Streets lined with ladies' shops and solicitors' offices replaced the brothels and public houses, while well-dressed gentlemen and shopkeepers alike moved about the avenues as London greeted the beginning of a new day.

Soon businesses gave way to private homes, and having never visited this area of the city before, she watched in interest as the seemingly endless rows of townhouse grew in wealth and prestige, each more extravagant than the last. As they traveled along, the streets also became quieter as the morning was as yet too young for the fashionable set to be out and about, many of them still resting in their beds after a long night of theaters and balls, family dinners and private gatherings.

Mr. Darcy soon cleared his throat, drawing her attention back to the matter at hand. "When we arrive, my driver will bring the carriage around to the stables, where we may enter the house unobserved. My staff has been at work preparing a chamber for you, and I shall send for my personal physician at once."

She wished to insist that such measures were not necessary, but as the ache in her side was becoming increasingly unbearable the longer they traveled, she was forced to accept his offer and simply nodded her head in agreement.

"Please do not hesitate to ask my staff for anything you may need, for any comfort that may be provided."

"Thank you, Sir."

She watched as he paused for a moment before continuing quietly, almost as if he feared their conversation being overheard by some passerby. "I have also apprised my housekeeper of the situation." As she once again began to flush in embarrassment, he continued quickly, "Not the particulars, I assure you! I merely told her that you are a young lady of my acquaintance who has suffered under the deception of another. I also explained we were to provide you with a safe haven while a reunion with your family could be arranged. Pray, do not fear judgment nor gossip at the hands of my staff."

"Thank you, Sir." She was not sure what else to say in response to a statement such as this.

They once again settled into silence for the final few minutes of the journey before the carriage pulled into the courtyard at the back of the townhouse. The door was opened promptly by a waiting coachman and Mr. Darcy disembarked, immediately turning to offer his hand in assistance as she too stepped down. With a few brief steps, they made their way indoors, and Elizabeth followed in a daze as they wound their way through the workspace belowstairs and climbed the steps leading to the dining room above. She had little time to observe the stylish decor of the space before they moved through another door to meet an older woman awaiting them by the grand staircase of the house.

"Miss Bennet, allow me to introduce Mrs. Chadwick. She is the housekeeper here at Darcy House and will show you to your chamber." He then reiterated his assurances that any comfort which could be provided her shall be done and encouraged her not to hesitate to ask the housekeeper if she was in need of anything. He then inquired after the status of the room and was pleased to hear that all was ready for the young miss.

Turning to her once again, he bowed his farewell and stood aside as the housekeeper stepped forward to assume her duty. Quietly, the two women mounted the stairs, making their way to the second floor where a guest chamber had been prepared. Too consumed with embarrassment at the scandalous nature of her arrival, she dared not speak. True, the limited number of staff she had encountered along the way had bowed or curtsied in respect, but she could not pretend they were not shocked by her appearance. Cloaked in the master's overcoat and entering the house under secrecy through the servants' entrance were circumstances too improper to be ignored. And all too aware of the indelicacy of the gown she wore, she knew her humiliation would be complete once the coat was removed and the housekeeper and maids witnessed the full extent of her degradation.

The soothing sound of the housekeeper's voice drew her momentarily from her thoughts. "Here we are, Miss. I do hope you are partial to yellow," she smiled as they came to a halt outside a tall mahogany door.

Returning the smile in kind, she responded, "Indeed I am."

"Wonderful! I hope you shall find this chamber well to your liking then."

Entering the bedchamber, Elizabeth was pleased to discover the room to be bright and airy. The yellow of the walls called to mind memories of the summer sun shining upon her during her rambles along the footpaths of Hertfordshire. The soft green of the bed linens reminding her of the rolling meadows which surrounded Longbourn, while the oak furniture made her nostalgic for the woods bordering the fields along the east side of the estate. Such beauties of nature from which she had been so far removed and had missed most dearly during her captivity. Curiously, she raised her eyes to the ceiling, almost expected it to be painted in wisps of white and blue, depicting the sky above. In that she was to be disappointed, but it was no matter when so many reminders of nature's beauties welcomed her to Darcy House.

"If it pleases you, Miss, I thought to borrow a night dress of Miss Darcy's should you wish to change from your traveling clothes."

She turned to the housekeeper in confusion, having understood her to be aware of her situation. However, one glance at the woman's kindly expression revealed a desire to put her at ease, preceding as if there was naught amiss with her arrival. Smiling her appreciation, Elizabeth nodded gently before noting that a young maid was also present, having emerged from an open door on the far side of the room; a dressing room she guessed. The girl curtsied in greeting and stood at the ready to assist in preparing her for the arrival of the Darcys' physician. But, to do so would mean exposure of all that lurked beneath the master's coat, and she knew any further attempts to treat her as they would any other guest of the family would become impossible.

Debating the possibility of politely asking the women to leave her to her privacy, she almost missed the housekeeper's inquiry as to whether she wished to partake of the hot bath which had been drawn for her. Oh, how wonderful a bath sounded! Accepting the offer without hesitation, she followed the woman to the dressing screen which had been set up close to the fireplace. Expecting only to find a kneeling basin, she was surprised indeed to find that it was a full, movable bathing tub had been readied for her and stood quietly for a few moments, gazing longingly at the inviting sight of the steaming water.

A quiet clearing of the throat shook her from her trance, reminding her that the housekeeper and maid were waiting to assist her. Mortified, she realized the moment had come and there was no avoiding the inevitable now. Slowly she slid the overcoat from her shoulders, refusing to raise her eyes and bear witness to the reaction of the housekeeper as her deplorable state was fully exposed. However, the woman made no outward show of disapproval as she accepted the garment and instructed the maid to help with the fastenings of the gown. Stripped down to her shift, she allowed the women to assist her into the tub, and sighed in relief as she was engulfed by a warmth she was convinced she would never again know. But her relief was to be short-lived, for when the maid reached to undo her hair, Elizabeth flinched, pulling away from the girl and jarring her aching side in the process.

Struggling to regain control of her breathing and embarrassed by her overreaction to such a simple gesture, she made quick work of undoing her hair before easing herself back against side of the tub. Taking the soap in hand, she began to scrub furiously at her body, trying to wash from her every remnant of that terrible place, the smell of the perfume on her skin, the feeling of filth pervading her being. But for as much as she scrubbed, it was not enough to cleanse herself of the brothel. It was as if the foulness had seeped into her very bones and she would never fully rid herself of it.

So focused on cleaning as she was, the feel of Mrs. Chadwick's hands on her own startled her completely. Gently, the older woman removed the soap from her grasp and Elizabeth was surprised to find her skin flushed an angry red as a result of her relentless rubbing. As another pitcher of water was poured over her, rinsing the suds from her hair and body, she still felt as if it was not enough. But as the housekeeper refused to return the soap to her, she was left with no other choice than to rise from the bath and dress.

As the wet shift was removed, a startled gasp drew her attention to the young maid, and looking to the girl in confusion, she noticed that her eyes were fixed upon her person. Following her gaze, she was met with the sight of a large, angry bruise running along her left side, blotches of red and purple marring the smooth porcelain of her skin. Recognizing it as the source of the pain she had been struggling with all morning, she held no doubt it was the result of her body meeting the wall during the violent confrontation with the madame the night before. The revelation of such violence rendered a shift in the mood of the room as the housekeeper's demeanor seemed to soften even further. Her hands tender as she assisted Elizabeth into the soft cotton nightrail, her touch became reminiscent of a mother more than that of a servant.

With the cotton gown wrapping her in comfort and the heat of the fire warming her chilled bones, she now keenly felt her restoration to a life she had thought forever lost to her. And like a tightly wound ball of twine coming undone, she felt the tension in her body finally beginning to ease. But with the release of her anxiety, all of her emotions, which had been bounded so tightly over the past month, finally came undone as well and with this release she could feel the floodgates in her mind bursting open. Overcome with the rush, she felt tears fill her eyes and before long, a strangled sob broke free of her throat. And with that, all control was gone as she broke down completely, purging from her being all the pent up anguish and fear, anger and relief which she had experienced since her arrival in London. It took the strength of both women to assist her into the bed, where she sunk heavily into the softness of the mattress and allowed her body to spend itself of all it felt.


	12. Chapter 12

Mr. Darcy paced his study in agitation as he awaited the arrival of Mr. Hodgson, the Darcy family physician for over fifteen years. Instructing Mr. Hawkins to fetch him immediately upon the doctor's arrival, he had withdrawn to his study in desperate need of solitude to ease the worry in his mind as well as the pain in his head. Try as he might, the headache which had plagued him since waking that morning would not abate, nor would the soreness from having spent the night asleep on the floor. Settling into his desk chair initially, he had rested his head against the leather cushioning and closed his eyes.

However, his mind would not find peace in the quiet seclusion of his office as he was bombarded by a barrage of images from the previous night and early morning. Flashing before his mind's eye in rapid succession until finally the image of Elizabeth as she slept soon came to dominate his thoughts. She had spent the remainder of the night resting peacefully, no doubt a result of the drugging, and he had spent at least part of his night soaking in the image of his beloved in such an intimate slumber. The way her curls fanned about her on the pillow while her cheeks glowed with a light pink flush. The slight parting of her lips so very inviting while the fluttering of her eyelashes made him curious as to nature of the dreams into which she had escaped. He was still enchanted. Seven months had only strengthened, not weakened, his attachment to her.

As she slept, he had also planned. He had realized quickly enough that honesty would most certainly be a dangerous course for his negotiations to take in the morning. If the madame were alerted to his intent to free her, would she have been willing to accept his offer of payment? Or would a determination to protect her business and secrets from unwanted exposure outweigh the allure of money? Perhaps her demands would have been even higher if she was alerted to the special attachment he had to the lady. No, honesty would have served him poorly. It was then that he had set about concocting the tale which he had supplied the madame with that morning. It had been his intention to apprise Elizabeth of his plan before Madame Amelia had returned to the room, but the unseemly interruption they had experienced beforehand had prevented him from doing so. When he was once again free to discuss the matter with her, he spelled out his plan as succinctly as possible and was relieve to see her enthusiasm and support for his chosen course of action.

Then the image of her smile as she prepared to board the carriage flashed before him; his heart stopping as she had smiled upon him with such happiness. Her expression at that moment had transported him instantly back to their time together at Netherfield.

_He and Miss Bingley were strolling through the shrubbery in the gardens at Netherfield, enjoying the late morning air. The lady was, as was now her wont, relentlessly attempting to provoke Mr. Darcy by teasing him about what was most certainly soon to be his impending marriage to Eliza Bennet._

_"Have you anything else to propose for my domestic felicity?" He drawled, by no means entertained by her unguarded barbs at Elizabeth nor her continuing absence of proper etiquette in her role as hostess to the Bennet sisters._

_"Oh! yes. Do let the portraits of your uncle and aunt Phillips be placed in the gallery at Pemberley. Put them next to your great-uncle the judge. They are in the same profession, you know, only in different lines. As for your Elizabeth's picture, you must not have it taken, for what painter could do justice to those beautiful eyes?"_

_"It would not be easy, indeed, to catch their expression, but their colour and shape, and the eyelashes, so remarkably fine, might be copied."_

_At that moment they were met from another walk by Mrs. Hurst and Elizabeth herself._

_As proper greetings were exchanged and Miss Bingley and Mrs. Hurst exchanged surprise at encountering each other in the lanes of the garden, Mr. Darcy was looking anywhere but at Miss Bennet, questioning whether she had been in a position to overhear his last comment. Try as he might, he knew his attempts to hide his growing fascination with the young country miss were failing miserably. Each expression of jealousy from Miss Bingley only further serving to remind him of his failure to maintain his usual mien of aloofness and disinterest whenever in her company._

_When Mrs. Hurst took his disengaged arm, he was further surprised and embarrassed by the blatant insult as she left Elizabeth to walk by herself. This insult was then furthered when the sisters continued to guide him down the path which admitted only three. Feeling their rudeness acutely, he immediately said,"This walk is not wide enough for our party. We had better go into the avenue."_

_But Elizabeth, who had not the least inclination to remain with them, laughingly answered,"No, no; stay where you are. You are charmingly grouped, and appear to uncommon advantage. The picturesque would be spoilt by admitting a fourth. Good-bye."_

_She then ran gaily off._

The look she had turned upon him as she had mounted the carriage had carried him back to that morning, when her eyes had danced with mirth as she fled the company of he and Bingley's sisters. Then, he had believed her expression to be one of mischief and flirtation, but now he understood it to have genuinely been one of relief at escaping his company.

Rising to his feet, he had begun pacing as he once again reevaluated every interaction they had shared over the course of those months in Hertfordshire and again in Kent. They were memories he had analyzed and agonized over incessantly since Easter. Every laugh and witticism, every smirk and raised eyebrow had been parsed and scrutinized and then parsed again endlessly. Each recounting only spiraling him deeper and deeper into his despair.

A knock upon his study door drew him from his thoughts, and he called, "Enter."

The door opened to admit Mr. Hawkins, followed closely by Mr. Hodgson. Upon the butler's announcing the gentleman and removing himself from the room, Mr. Darcy extended his hand in welcome to the physician and thanked him for responding so promptly to his request.

"It is no trouble. I hope there is naught amiss with yourself or Miss Darcy."

"No, no. We are well." He paused for a moment as he realized he had not actually taken the time to compose his explanation to the physician. "There is a young woman, an acquaintance from my time in Hertfordshire, who is in need of your care. She has…," he hesitated briefly as he considered the best way to proceed, "she has suffered most cruelly as the result of a terrible deception. I am not certain as to what all she has endured, but she has admitted to being denied adequate food and rest for an extended period of time. I also believe her to be experiencing some amount of pain, although she has denied as much."

Gesturing towards the door, he wasted no time in leading the physician through the house and up the stairs to the second level. Little else was said between the two gentlemen as they made their way towards Elizabeth's chamber, as Mr. Hodgson had become quiet and seemed lost in his thoughts. Mr. Darcy meanwhile was certain that his attempts to avoid specific details concerning Elizabeth's situation had not gone unnoticed by the gentleman.

As they moved along the hallway, Mr. Darcy spied a maid exiting one of the guest chambers towards the front of the house and made his way towards her. Realizing he had not actually been made aware as to which chamber she had been escorted, he was relieved to note that the young maid was carrying in her arms the clothes which Elizabeth had been wearing. Deducing that she must be in the Yellow Room, he was spared the embarrassment of having to ask about Miss Bennet's whereabouts; however, signaling for the girl to halt, he instructed her to wait for him while he finished escorting the doctor to the door.

As they crossed the few remaining steps to the chamber door, Mr. Hodgson quietly inquired, "And you said she has spent her time where again, Sir?"

Coming to a halt outside the Yellow Room, he rapped lightly on the door while turning a stern look upon the physician. "I did not."

The door opened to reveal Mrs. Chadwick, who curtsied upon seeing them. Remembering his manners, Mr. Darcy was able to stop himself before taking a step towards entering the room, and instead turned his attention solely to his housekeeper. Inquiring after Miss Bennet's well-being and receiving confirmation that she was ready for the doctor, he left the gentleman to his task and announced to both that he would be found in his study once the doctor was finished with his examination.

As he watched the door close before him and listened to the sound of the latch catching echo through the hall, he cursed the rules of propriety which prevented him from further tending to the care of the woman he cared most for in the world. But left with no other choice, he again approached the maid, eyeing the garments in her hand. His anger swelled as they called to mind the indecency of the attire she had been provided, her sensibilities surely offended once again in the face of such further disgrace. "Burn them," he commanded, causing the young girl to jump in surprise at the brusqueness of his tone. "Fetch for her any gowns or other garments she made be in need of from Miss Darcy's chamber. I believe there were a number of gowns she has recently outgrown and were to be donated. I am sure those would be best fitted to Miss Bennet's height and comfort."

He watched as the girl bowed and hurried down the corridor to carry out his orders.

*****PnP*****

The wait for Mr. Hodgson was interminable. As he once again took to pacing his study, he eventually found his way to the decanter of brandy. With his head continuing to ache from imbibing too much the night before, he found himself wondering for the first time in his eight and twenty years if something his cousin Richard had told him back in his university years was indeed true. Something about dog hair, the exact quote escaping him after so many years. Pouring a glass, he took a sip and found it did not turn his stomach as the wine had the previous night, and carrying it with him, he continued to sip at the amber brew while circling the room and once again losing himself in his thoughts.

Questions now became the focus of his concentration. How should he approach Elizabeth's uncle? Would it be better to call on the man at home, ignoring the impropriety of calling on a man to whom he had not been formally introduced? Should he call on him at his place of business, wherever that may be? Would there be enough privacy to engage is such a delicate conversation? Was he even a man to be trusted, giving all that had already befallen Elizabeth at the hands of one of her relatives?

Mr. Collins. His felt his chest tightening and his ire rising at the mere thought of the scoundrel, which was occurring more and more frequently as the pastor was quickly becoming one of the most pressing of the questions plaguing him. What was to be done with Mr. Collins? Surely his crimes could not go unpunished. However, Mr. Darcy was in no position to seek justice for what had been done to Elizabeth as she was, in the eyes of society at least, nothing more to him than a passing acquaintance. She was not his intended, nor even a woman with whom he was courting. Of course, if she had been as much, this would have never been allowed to occur. The intended of Fitzwilliam Darcy could never be made to disappear so easily nor lost to the sands of time.

No, to think as such is to place blame on Elizabeth for her rejection of his suit; a rejection he had long since come to accept as right and just given his behavior towards her and her family. While her assertions concerning Mr. Wickham had indeed been misguided, he had eventually been forced to admit that the fault for this misunderstanding lay solely at the feet of his childhood friend. Although, his conscience often made a point of highlighting ways in which he could have avoided that particular misunderstanding. If only he had been more open...

He was drawn from this destructive train of thought by the return of Mr. Hodgson. Relieved to see the physician appeared less displeased than he had expected, Mr. Darcy took this as a sign that all must be well, or at the very least may well soon be. Inquiring after the health of Elizabeth, he listened intently as the gentleman summarized his findings.

"Miss Bennet shall recover fully, I have no doubt of that, Sir. While she is indeed malnourished, it is not so severely that she will be unable to regain her health with relative ease. I believe that a full stomach and plenty of rest will serve her best. In fact, she was already drifting into a deep slumber as I left her, and it will be the best medicine for her at this point."

Mr. Darcy breathed an audible sigh of relief at this news, which made the physician wish he did not have to continue. "However, the pain she is indeed experiencing is more troubling." He paused for a moment as he watched concern once again cloud the younger man's face. "It appears that she has suffered an injury to her side, causing a large bruise to form which I believe extends to her ribs." He paused again as this information elicited a small gasp from Mr. Darcy. "I have suggested that she restrict her movements for the next fortnight, as the pain can be quite acute. I would also recommend to you that if your staff are able to acquire small amounts of ice, it can be applied to the bruised area and help relieve the pain. If such can be applied multiple times a day for the next several days, it shall assist in dispersing some of the swelling, which contributes greatly to the soreness."

Mr. Darcy nodded emphatically, assuring he would have one of the servants sent to an icehouse at once to procure as much as would be needed.

"Excellent." This time, the doctor's pregnant pause signaled another unpleasant turn in the conversation was about to occur. "It appears that she is suffering from a very distressing experience indeed. While her body shall heal quickly I am sure, I fear her emotional well-being may not be so easily soothed. May I ask, Mr. Darcy, where exactly you discovered Miss Bennet?"

His question was met with silence for several long moments before the gentleman nodded slightly and sighed. "A brothel. I found her in a brothel." He turned away from the doctor and made his way to the window, not wishing to see the man's reaction as he came to understand the full implications of this answer.

Silence prevailed for a few moments more before he continued. "Her cousin tricked her into coming to London, believing she was to assume a position as a governess when he had in fact sold her to a madame." He then proceeded to summarize in as few sentence as possible what had occurred within the walls of Madame Amelia's. Having known the physician for the larger portion of his life, he completely trusted the discretion of the gentleman, and if he were to be honest, it also eased his own troubled mind at least partly to unload his burdens on another.

When his tale was finished, he waited in agonizing silence for Mr. Hodgson to speak, and when the physician finally did, he was not entirely prepared for the question that was put forth. "Can you tell me more about the symptoms of this drug she was given?"

Surprised, he turned to study the man in curiosity before realizing that this may be a crucial piece of information for the doctor to know. Honestly, given that she appeared well this morning, the necessity to discover more about what she had been given had diminished. For the doctor, however, this must be vital information indeed! Thinking back on all he had observed since the discovery of her muddled state, he described as best he could remember the dazed look in her eyes and the blissful detachment from her surroundings.

"So she was at ease and no longer appeared distressed with her situation?" At his nod, the doctor then asked, "Do you know how she came to ingest whatever this drug was? Was she given a capsule or tincture?"

"She kept mentioning powders which she said were dissolved into her wine by the madame."

The medical man nodded as he chewed over this additional information. Eventually, he surmised, "I believe she was given some form of opium. The constriction of her eyes and euphoric state sound very similar to the effects of opiates. It is an insidious substance, and knowing that she has been given it previously, I will need to alter my instructions to your staff. I provided Mrs. Chadwick with a bottle of laudanum to help ease the pain these first few days. However, I do not believe it would be wise to do so when she has been exposed to such an addictive substance. I am afraid it would be in her best interest at this point to leave her to the pains of her bruises than risk developing a dependency on opium."

Mr. Darcy nodded in agreement, although begrudgingly at the thought of his Elizabeth suffering when the means to spare her from it existed.

"I will be sure to speak with your housekeeper before I go. However, there is one more issue I feel as your physician I must address before I do so."

Mr. Darcy's ears perked at gaining any further information which could aid in caring for Elizabeth. What he heard, however, was quite the opposite of his expectations.

"Sir, I was not aware that you visited such … establishments…" As he trailed off, Mr. Darcy stood a bit straighter, clearly offended at the insinuation.

"I do not, Sir. I assure you." However, at the doctor's raised eyebrow, he admitted that his answer would not be enough to assuage this conversation. He had, after all, just admitted to the man that he had indeed done that very thing, leading to the rescue of Miss Bennet. He also knew the man knew him too well and had served his family too long to allow this conversation to fall to the wayside. "I have never set foot in such a place before, and I never shall again. I swear it."

When at last the physician nodded, acknowledging that he believed this to be true, Mr. Darcy continued, "I still do not know why I allowed my cousin to persuade me to follow him. But, I was attempting to leave when I found myself staring into the face of a frightened Miss Bennet, and I would not leave her there."

His answer finally seemed to appease the doctor, although the gentleman deemed it necessary to add, "I just wish to be sure. You are, I am sure, aware of the dangers of engaging in such behavior…?"

"Yes, which is precisely why I have avoided them. One of many reasons, I assure you."

"Very well. I shall speak with Mrs. Chadwick before I excuse myself. I should like to see Miss Bennet again in a se'nnight, wherever she may be by then."

"Yes, I shall see to it that arrangements are made to allow as much."

The men exchanged bows before Mr. Hodgson excused himself to attend to his duties. As the door closed behind him, Mr. Darcy sunk once again into his desk chair, resting his head against the back of the chair. The news that Elizabeth would recover trumped all else he was thinking and feeling at that moment. Rest and food, both were to be had in plenty at Darcy House. Between himself and Mrs. Chadwick, he was certain that Elizabeth would remain undisturbed until her relatives could be fetched to her. As he then realized he had not managed to attain the contact information for her uncle before she was shown to her chamber, he conceded that he would not be able to do much more until she was once again awake.

Closing his eyes, he allowed the peace of the doctor's good news to wash over him, and unaware that he was doing so, he too was soothed into a deep slumber by the stillness of the house, now that all was well.


	13. Chapter 13

The sound of knocking slowly drew Mr. Darcy from his slumber, and gradually opening his eyes, he realized he had fallen asleep in his desk chair yet again. Lifting his head from where it had been resting against the back of the chair, he looked about the room, trying to discern how long he had been asleep, and glancing at the clock on the mantle, he noted that it was just before noon. As the sound of knocking again echoed through his study, he called for whoever it was to enter and watched as the door opened to reveal Mr. Hawkins carrying a silver salver bearing several letters.

"The post, Sir," he announced as he entered the room and made his way to the desk, presenting the master with his correspondences.

Straightening his back, which loudly protested having spent another three hours resting in an unnatural manner, he assumed a more formal posture and retrieved the three letters from the tray, inquiring nonchalantly, "Have you any word on Miss Bennet? She is still resting in her chamber?"

"Yes, Sir. Mrs. Chadwick has informed me that the young miss has been resting since her visit with Mr. Hodgson."

As he nodded in approval, he turned his attention to the notes in his hands, flipping through them until quite unexpectedly discovering one to be from his uncle, the Earl of Matlock. As he was a regular correspondent with his uncle, it was not unusual to receive a letter from the gentleman; however, his Uncle and Aunt Fitzwilliam were currently on the road, making their way back to London and bringing with them his young sister. Having spent the summer together at Pemberely, the siblings had parted ways in early September as Georgiana had spent the past six weeks traveling with the couple on a tour of Lake District. Now, she was due to arrive in London on the morrow to join her brother for at least part of the season. Although not yet out, it had been decided that the time had arrived for her to begin attending a selection of the small, private parties hosted by members of the family. As these gatherings would be keeping with the customs of the Ton, it was agreed upon by all that they would be very useful in providing the shy girl with the opportunity to practice playing to an audience and to familiarize herself with the comportment expected in the parlors and ballrooms of the _Ton_.

His concern growing that there must be something amiss, he broke the seal without delay and quickly devoured contents of the short missive.

_Daventry, Sunday Oct 20. 1811_

_Nephew,_

_Let me first assure you, as I know you are surely already imagining countless horrific scenarios which could cause me to write, that all is well and to not be alarmed upon receiving this letter. Our travels have merely proceeded more slowly than anticipated, and I did not wish to worry you unnecessarily when we did not arrive upon your doorstep on Wednesday midday as originally planned. It seems the late autumn rains have fallen especially heavily in this part of the country, rendering our travels over these past two days slow and frequently requiring stops to clean the muck from the carriage wheels. I find myself wondering repeatedly if we may achieve better progress by walking to London than we currently are in traveling by carriage. However, knowing you would not be pleased to find I have forced your aunt and dear sister to trek through the mud along the lanes of Northhamptonshire, we have instead taken once again to the shelter of an inn for the night._

_The innkeeper advises me that the conditions with which we have been struggling shall continue for most of our way to London, and he predicts that we should not reach you a moment sooner than the afternoon of the 24th. Knowing that you surely must be missing the company of your dear Georgiana, we shall be sure to deliver her directly to the door of Darcy House as soon as we gain the cobbled lanes of London. Fear not, Nephew._

_Your servant,  
Henry_

The teasing tone of the note, a hallmark of his uncle's dry and sarcastic sense of humor, did serve to bring a hint of a smile to Mr. Darcy's lips, and looking up from the paper he addressed his butler, "Mr. Hawkins, it appears the rains in the north have been a bit heavier than expected and slowed the progress of Lord Matlock's carriage. Miss Darcy will not be arriving tomorrow as expected, but shall instead arrive on Thursday."

"Very well, Sir. I shall inform Mrs. Chadwick so she may adjust her arrangements accordingly."

"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins." Refolding the note and tossing it on to the desktop, he returned his attention to the butler. "I have a great number of business matters to attend to, which I am sure will consume much of my afternoon. If Miss Bennet should feel well enough to emerge from her chamber, please see to it that she is assisted in any manner she may require and fetch me at once."

The butler bowed his head in understanding and began to make his way from the room, but was called back before reaching the door.

"Pray, see that this is delivered to Miss Bennet, and her reply returned to me as soon as you or Mrs. Chadwick are able," Mr. Darcy explained as he scratched out a quick note, folding it in half before passing it to the servant. As the man once again bowed his head in acknowledgement, Mr. Darcy dismissed the butler to his work and resumed his seat at the desk. Forcing himself to focus on the papers before him, he settled in to his business while awaiting word of Elizabeth.

*****P &P*****

The sound of someone moving about the chamber penetrated the heavy fog under which Elizabeth had been slumbering, rescuing her from the disturbing images which now haunted her sleep. Quickly opening her eyes, fearing Geoffrey had once again entered the washroom, she turned her head to look towards the door leading to the kitchen, hoping to find it closed and locked. But she was not met with the sight of the old, battered oak door hanging crookedly on its hinges, but rather a large marble fireplace, complete with a warm and welcoming fire blazing within it. With a heavy sigh of relief, she recalled that she was no longer in that horrid place, but was instead resting in a bed chamber at the home of Mr. Darcy. That, thankfully, had not been the figment of some cruel dream.

Now curious as to the source of her waking, she glanced about the room and soon spotted the young maid who had attended her upon her arrival, Julia she had learned. Quietly, Elizabeth observed as the girl worked over a tray of food, preparing for her the meal which had been sent up by the kitchen. Although her movements were quiet, as was expected of those in service to the gentry, she could not have helped disturbing the master's guest. Always on guard and in fear of her safety, especially with Geoffrey about, Elizabeth had developed an acute sensitivity to noises, becoming especially attentive to the sounds of others about her.

Settling comfortably into the pillows once again, she continued to observe in silence as the maid move about her business, while her mind was occupied turning over all that occurred since her arrival at the townhouse that morning.

_"All is well, my dear. All is well." The soothing timbre of Mrs. Chadwick's voice slowly calmed the clamor inside her head, and feeling her distress begin to ease, Elizabeth was able to open her eyes and take in the gentle, caring gaze of the older woman. Feeling the press of a glass into her hands, she obeyed in silence, apart from the occasional sniffle, as the housekeeper encouraged her to drink, letting the coolness of the water help sooth the ache in her throat. Once she felt herself to again be in full control of her mind and her voice, she wholeheartedly thanked both women for their assistance._

_Dropping a curtsey, Julia inquired as to whether there was anything else the young miss required. And receiving an answer in he negative, she excused herself from the room, taking with her the clothes which Elizabeth had been forced to wear as she had fled the brothel. If she were to never set her sights upon that gown again, it would suit her most perfectly. But what else had she to wear?_

_A knock upon the door a few minutes later heralded the arrival of the physician to whom Mr. Darcy had earlier alluded. A tall gentleman with graying hair, carrying with him a leather bag and a friendly smile. Open and affable in his demeanor as he greeted her, she found herself quickly becoming a little more at ease with the stranger. "Good day, Miss Bennet. It is my very great pleasure to make your acquaintance," he smiled._

_"Thank you, Sir. I wish I could say the same, but alas I cannot," she returned, a small smirk accompanying her quip._

_Laughing in reply, he acknowledged that she must indeed be correct and approached the bed, setting his bag upon the night table beside his patient. "How are you faring, Miss Bennet? It is my understanding that you are experiencing some discomfort."_

_"Aye, Sir," she responded, the playful lightness of her tone disappearing as she looked down at her hands, which rested clasped upon her lap. Wondering just how much the doctor had been given to understand, she debated how best to answer his questions. Of course, she knew it would be in her best interest to be completely honest with the gentleman, but to give voice to all she had endured, and before Mrs. Chadwick as well, she just could not bear to do._

_Sensing the physician was observing her closely, she forced herself to meet his eyes and determined to say only as much as needed to aid him in his diagnosis. "I am experiencing quite a bit of pain along my left side." She paused momentarily while rallying her courage to continue. "I had an unpleasant encounter with a wall last night, and I have recently come to realize a rather large bruise has formed, which must surely be the source of my discomfort."_

_His eyebrows raised in surprise, he asked her to reveal to him this bruise and turned his back in respect as the housekeeper assisted in turning her on her side and arranging the nightrail and sheets in such a way as to preserve her modesty while exposing for his inspection the bruise in question. Staring at the window across the room, she willed her mind not to focus on the examination, but when he pressed gently upon her back she simply could not swallow her cry of pain._

_Apologizing profusely, he advised her of his need to feel the bones beneath the mark, which would likely be difficult as well. Steeling herself in preparation of further pain, she remained stoic in the face of her acute discomfort as he pressed his fingers gently against the bruise, tracing the bones as they curved around her chest. Feeling tears fill her eyes, she struggled to hold them back._

_"Thank you, Miss Bennet, for your patience in what I am sure was quite arduous. I am happy, however, to report that I do not believe any of the bones to be broken, which means the time needed to heal the bruising will be shorter." He then instructed Mrs. Chadwick to assist her in restoring the shift and settling her comfortably, yet slowly into the bed. As they did so, he turned his attention to his medical bag, again providing her privacy, but continued to speak. "In cases such as this, healing usually occurs over the course of five or six weeks. I highly recommend restricting your movements for the next fortnight, as that will be the most uncomfortable part of your recovery. I shall also leave some laudanum with Mrs. Chadwick to administer if you should find the pain too unbearable or disruptive to your rest."_

_Settling in the chair that had been placed beside the bed, he returned his attention to her as she now rested against the pillows, the bedding tucked beneath her arms as she still struggled to ease the tears which had pooled in her eyes. Gently, he continued. "I could not help but observe, Miss Bennet, that you also appear undernourished. Tell me, have you been consuming your usual want for food?"_

_"No, Sir. I have not been provided with much to eat since September." Her eyes darted quickly to the housekeeper upon hearing her gasp lightly. She did not miss the look of displeasure that briefly touched the older woman's countenance before once again settling into one of studied indifference._

_"Pray, Miss Bennet, will you not tell me what else you have endured since September?"_

_Looking hesitantly at the doctor and again at the housekeeper, she debated what else she wished to say. Her stubbornness battled with her reason as she struggled to decide the best way to proceed. To tell the full truth would be to expose where she had been, but to tell naught would only further hinder her recovery. Fiercely protective of her few remaining shreds of dignity, she settled on a explanation which she hoped would settle the matter. Returning her gaze to her hands, she explained, "I was put to work, cleaning linens and serving food. The woman who I was..." her voice dropped off as she struggled to find a word that she could use. Finally, she continued, "The woman I was sent to work for is of a very violent temperament and would often lash out at us if we disobeyed her orders."_

_"Us?"_

_"The... the other servants and I. She would deny us meals or rest if we displeased her."_

_Nodding thoughtfully, the physician turned this information over in his mind, but Elizabeth could sense beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not fooled by her story. "Am I correct in deducing your injury to be the result of this violent temper?"_

_"Yes, Sir." Nervously she waited as he mulled over all she had said, fearing that he would continue in this line of questioning. Or worse, that he would declare that he knew it to be a falsehood, a poorly fabricated one at that, and demand the truth._

_But for some reason which she was sure she would never know, he simply nodded and said, "Thank you, Miss Bennet, for sharing with me what is, I am sure, very distressing for you to discuss." Rising from the chair, he then smiled genially and advised, "I believe rest and a full stomach are the best remedies, Miss Bennet. You are to consider yourself under strict orders to rest for as long and as often as you like and to eat all that is sweet and sumptuous which passes before your eyes."_

_"I shall be sure to do so, Sir," she laughed and thanked him for his assistance and care._

_"Mrs. Chadwick, if you have a moment I should like to review with you the proper procedure for administering laudanum?"_

_"Certainly, Sir."_

_Sighing quietly in relief as the good doctor retreated with the housekeeper to the far corner of the room, talking quietly amongst themselves, she once again sunk into the softness of the mattress, luxuriating in the feel of a warm and comfortable bed. Closing her eyes against the brightness of the room, she quickly found the heavy hand of fatigue once again pulling her under, and before she could realize she was doing so, she succumb to the temptation and drifted into a deep slumber._

"Are you hungry, miss?"

Shaken from her reverie, Elizabeth returned her attention to Julia and found the young girl had finished her preparations and was now standing before the fireplace, stoking the fire. Smiling warmly, she nodded and thanked her as the girl offered to prepare a plate. "Yes, that would be lovely, thank you."

Slowly raising herself from the mattress, she carefully shifted her still aching body until it was once again able to rest against the headboard but was quickly taken unawares by the feel of something lightly falling against her hand. Withdrawing her hand in surprise and turning her head to seek out the offending object, she was further startled to find that the object in question was in fact a folded piece of paper, resting on the pillow beside her. Glancing around the room, almost as if she expected to find its writer hiding behind the curtain or under the arm chair beside the fireplace, she found the room continued to be occupied by only she and Julia. And while the note did not contain upon it any indication that it was in fact intended for her, she knew it could be for no other.

Lifting it from the pillow, she was surprised to find upon opening it that it was written in a hand she had become all too familiar with, recognizing the steady and even hand of Mr. Darcy immediately. After having spent countless nights in her room at Longbourn reading over his letter, she had come to know that hand as well as that of Jane or her Aunt Gardiner. Curious as to what matter could be of such importance to motivate him to violate propriety in such a manner, she perused the few lines scratched upon the paper and was only too pleased that he had!

_Miss Bennet,_

_I realize I had not the opportunity to attain the name and address of your uncle here in London. If you could respond with this information as well as the location of his place of business, I shall seek him out at once tomorrow morning._

_Your servant,  
Fitzwilliam Darcy_

Oh, Uncle Gardiner!

Requesting of Julia a quill and ink, she was informed that a writing desk was included in each guest chamber of Darcy House, and moving to a small desk in the far corner of the room, the maid retrieved the implements as well as a slope to write upon. Quickly jotting the requested information beneath his signature, she asked Julia to sand the paper and see that the note was returned to the master as soon as possible. Then settling in to enjoy her luncheon, the first meal in far too long which she would be free to enjoy in peace and comfort, she was pleased to find the food as savory and satisfying as any she had ever tasted. For who would expect any less from the cook of Darcy House?


	14. Chapter 14

The sounds of activity filled the morning air as dockworkers shouted commands to one another as they moved to and fro, laboring tirelessly to load and unload the countless ships moored along the docks of the Thames. As the well-sprung carriage rocked and rumbled over the cobbled avenue separating the warehouses from the wharf, Mr. Darcy observed in interest the activity about him. Never before had he been given cause to make his way to the city's booming trade hub, and while many of his investments profited from the activities carried out on these very piers each day, never before had he given much thought to all they entailed.

As the carriage came to a halt outside a large brick warehouse, he leaned forward to gaze through the window at the large sign hanging overhead, reading _E &G's Continental Imports_. Pulling a small, folded piece of paper from his vest pocket, he opened it and once again gazed upon the decided delicate, feminine hand of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. After confirming the name and location of her uncle's business, he stepped from the carriage and reminded Hawes to remain close, as he was not certain how long he would be. Then adjusting his beaver and straightening his tailcoat, he walked along the front of the large building until finally locating a door on the far side of the brick facade, serving as the entrance to the offices above. Climbing the poorly lit stairway, listening as each footfall echoed in the stillness about him, he made his way to the second level as directed by the sign below and entered the main office without knocking.

Glancing about the room, he was surprised to find the office clean and orderly, with two desks positioned on opposite walls and a row of floor-to-ceiling shelves crowded with ledgers and leather-bound books lining the third. Beside one of the desks, he spied another door upon which hung a nameplate declaring it to be the office of a Mr. E. Gardiner, and as he began to approach it, he was halted by the door opening and young man emerging, closing it behind him.

"Good day, Sir," he greeted and nodded his head in respect, conveying his immediate recognition of the visitor's status as a wealthy gentleman. "How may I be of assistance?"

"I wish to speak with Mr. Edward Gardiner. I have been made to understand that this is his place of business."

"Yes, Sir. Forgive me, but I was not aware of your appointment with Mr. Gardiner." Although phrased in apology, it was clearly a question, one challenging the gentleman's assumption that he would be allowed to arrive unannounced and still be granted an interview.

"Understandable, as I do not have one. However, it is of the utmost importance that I speak with him at once. This concerns a matter which cannot be delayed," he stated simply, in no mood to grapple with the underling's flimsy attempt at exerting some measure of authority. Waiting impatiently for the young man to respond, he was given the distinct impression that he was being sized-up by the clerk, and after several moments more, he was informed that Mr. Gardiner had an important appointment pending and truly did not have the time needed to meet. Would he care to make an appointment for the following morning?

"Absolutely not. I assure you that the information I bear will be of the utmost priority to Mr. Gardiner, and he would be most seriously displeased to find he was prevented from hearing it for even a moment longer." Then handing the young man his card, he gestured towards the door before them and directed upon the clerk his most formidable stare.

Weighing all that had been said, the young man examined the card in his hand, noting the fine stock and elegant print; it was the card of a man who was not to be easily dismissed. Finally, he nodded in understanding and turned to knock upon the office door, and receiving permission to enter, led him into the room.

"Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire to see you, Sir."

Seated behind a large mahogany desk sat a man of about forty years of age with thinning hair and fine attire. Rising from his chair at the announcement of a visitor, Mr. Gardiner greeted his guest with a genial smile and a hand extended in welcome. "Good day, Mr. Darcy. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am sure."

The greeting, one he was accustomed to receiving, having heard it repeatedly throughout the entirety of his adult life, had always struck him as the stuff of simperers and fools. However, the tone of the man before him conveyed the very opposite, and as to why that should be, he could not begin to speculate. While friendly and polite in his demeanor, he carried about him an unmistakable aura of intelligence while his eyes shinned with a subtle hint of shrewdness, his presence commanding in his very stance. There was no doubting upon meeting the businessman that he was not one to be easily deceived, and sensing this Mr. Darcy recognized that it would serve him best to cut to the quick.

"I thank you, Sir. If you will allow, I fear I require a few moments of your time." Glancing sidelong at the clerk still standing to his left, he turned his eyes once again to Elizabeth's uncle and was pleased to see the hint was well understood.

"Thank you, Robert. I believe that shall be all for now."

With a bow the young clerk retreated from the room, closing the door quietly behind him as he went. Politely refusing the seat offered, Mr. Darcy began, "I have sought you out today, Sir, as I have important news concerning one of your nieces, a Miss Elizabeth Bennet."

Quickly the man who had barely settled into his desk chair once again rose to his feet, his surprise at this statement evident. "Lizzy? What news have you of her?" His eyes were fixed firmly upon the gentleman now, and Mr. Darcy could detect the glimmer of worry lacing his tone at the uttering of his niece's name.

"She is well, I assure you," Mr. Darcy affirmed quickly. "She is currently recovering at my home here in London and is being tended by my staff as well as my personal physician."

"Recovering? Physician? Is she injured? How did she come to be London? She was to Newcastle with the Dartmouths." The questions tumbled from the older man's lips as he rounded the desk and descended upon Mr. Darcy in his agitation.

Holding his ground, he explained, "It is with a heavy heart I must inform you that Miss Bennet never traveled north. She has in fact been residing here in London since her departure from Hertfordshire."

"Here in London?! But, where? Why would she not write to us to apprise us of this change in plans?"

Taking a deep breath, Mr. Darcy steeled himself for what he was now convinced would be most difficult for her uncle to hear. Gone was any suspicion that the tradesman was as untrustworthy as the pastor, and he took heart in the discovery that there were those among Elizabeth's closest family members who were indeed worthy of her trust and good opinion. "I fear, Sir, that which I am about to relay will be quite shocking indeed." With another brief pause, he continued. "She was deceived when Mr. Collins led her to understand she was to assume a position as a governess. There never was any such position secured for her."

As her uncle's face began to cloud, his fears for that which he was about to hear become clear.

"I greatly regret having to inform you, Sir, that she was in all actuality sold to a madame. She has been held captive in a house on King Street this month past."

In concern, he watched as Mr. Gardiner gasped, his face draining of color as he grabbed the edge of the desk beside them to steady himself in his shock. Taking several deep breathes, he struggled to regain his equilibrium as this news robbed him of his voice. "A broth-" he was finally able to gasp, his horror at this discovery palpable in the office air. "Oh Lizzy, my dear sweet…."

Suddenly, the shock gave way to rage as he spun upon Mr. Darcy. "You, Sir! Have you-"

Throwing his hands up in defense of his dignity, and if he were to be honest his physical safety as well, he did not allow the man to finish. Cutting his question down before it could even be completed, he bellowed "I most certainly did not!"

In tense silence they glared at one another, one consumed with fear and anger at the discovery of a most beloved niece's suffering, the other offended at the implication that he was no better than the likes of men such as his cousin Edward or George Wickham. Eventually forced by his sense of reason to relent, he allowed that Mr. Gardiner, although misguided in his suspicion, was in all actuality justified in questioning him. For this was the first they had met, and as they traveled in very different social circles, he would have no reason to be familiar with the immutable reputation of Fitzwilliam Darcy. Not to mention, once again the niggling voice of his conscience reminded him that he had been the one to accompany his cousin to the brothel, therefore putting him in a position to learn of Elizabeth's presence and serve as her rescuer.

"I understand that you are unfamiliar with my character and have no cause to believe me when I tell you that I have done naught to dishonor Miss Bennet, but I promise you, Mr. Gardiner, that I have acted only in her best interest. I removed her from King Street as quickly as I could, and she has remained under the watchful eyes of my housekeeper and maids throughout her brief time at Darcy House."

"I fear you underestimate what I may know of you, Sir," he responded cryptically before then demanding, "Take me to her. Now." Grabbing his coat and beaver from where they hung, he led Mr. Darcy from the room. "Robert, I must away and I suspect I shall not return to the offices today. Pray, contact Mr. Astell to make my excuses and reschedule our meeting to Friday or early next week."

"Yes, Sir."

"Also, I shall leave you in command of the coffee delivery." Again the young clerk nodded, his chest puffing with pride at the assignment of such a great responsibility from his employer.

In silence the men descended the staircase and made their way to the carriage which was awaiting them outside the warehouse's entrance. Settling into the plush seats of the conveyance, Mr. Darcy rapped his walking stick against the ceiling and the carriage set off, making its way back through the streets of London as they headed for home.

"If you would, Sir, I should appreciate hearing the entirety of your tale."

Mr. Darcy quietly observed the businessman seated across from him, taking in the expression of displeasure and a look that showed he would accept naught but the whole truth while they journeyed back to Berkeley Square. And suspecting the man would somehow know if he dared to leave out any part of his tale, he conveyed all that had occurred between he and Miss Bennet since his arrival in the brothel. Well, perhaps not all... but the majority of it at least. Although not well practiced in the arts of deception, Mr. Darcy had certainly learned over the course of his years in the ballrooms and drawing rooms of the Tonhow to play his cards close to the vest. As he finished his tale, he was well convinced that her uncle had not detected the omission of certain portions of his story, specifically the moments when his self-control had slipped in the presence of such temptation. No, engaging in a discussion of those moments would not serve either man well.

"And your physician is certain she is not suffering from any serious injury?"

"Yes. He has been serving our family for many years, and I have complete faith in his capabilities. He wishes to examine her again within the se'nnight to be sure all is healing properly."

Nodding, Mr. Gardiner agreed with this request and turned his attention to the row of townhouses passing by the carriage window. In silence he watched as the carriage slowed to a halt outside a handsome house set back slightly further from the street than its neighbors. The gray stone façade was understated yet elegant in its presentation, expressing while not flaunting the wealth of the inhabitants who resided within. While the houses surrounding boasted three windows abreast, Darcy House had six, hinting that the house had likely been expanded upon at some point in its history, now spanning the distance usually reserved for two residences.

As the carriage door opened before them, Mr. Darcy invited Mr. Gardiner to debark first, preceding him as they mounted the front steps to the residence.

*****PnP*****

As the mantle clocked signaled the arrival of the late morning hours, the second day of Elizabeth's residence at Darcy House found her still keeping to her chamber. Currently, she was propped against the pillows with a copy of Milton's 1645 Poems in one hand and a cup of tea occupying the other; the stillness of the room interrupted only by the quiet turning of a page or the rustle of fabric as Julia continued in her work of letting out the bodice of a pale blue gown. So lost as they were in their respective tasks, a knocking upon the door startled them both, and in anxious curiosity, she watched as the door opened and a familiar face crossed the threshold.

"Uncle!" She exclaimed in happiness, hurrying to rise from the bed, regardless of the soreness resulting from her movements.

"My dear child!" He too exclaimed as he rushed towards the bed, wrapping her gently in his embrace as he remembered the physician's prognosis. "Are you well my dear?" He asked, pulling back only far enough to take her face in his hands and wipe from her cheeks the couple of stray tears shed at the welcoming sight of a beloved relative.

"I am now, Uncle!" She smiled.

Remembering themselves and the presence of Julia, Elizabeth was encouraged to return to the bed and once again make herself comfortable while her uncle assumed the chair still resting beside her. Glancing over his shoulder at Julia, he kindly requested privacy for their interview and listened for the sound of the door closing behind him before turning his full attention to his niece.

"Tell me my, dear. Are you truly well?"

"I shall be. The doctor advised that I should rest myself for a fortnight, eat heartily, and I shall be as good as new in no time at all," her smile reassuring him that her physical well-being was not in danger.

Grateful indeed to see with his own eyes that her health was in no great danger, he returned her smile briefly. Then with a heavy heart, he leaned forward, clearing his throat and taking her hand in his own. "Mr. Darcy has told me where you were discovered and how he believes you came to be at such a terrible place. Pray my dear, tis true?"

Turning her eyes from his, she fixed her gaze upon their entwined hands and nodded slightly. "Tis," she whispered, feeling her throat tightening at the prospect of having to explain to her dear uncle all she had endured and hoping that he would not be as ashamed of her as she was of herself.

"My poor child," he sighed, clasping her hand more tightly and struggling to understand the unbelievable. "Pray, tell me all."

_The sounds of the city filled Elizabeth's ears as she watched the carriage progress along the streets of London. Filled simultaneously with curiosity and excitement at the prospect of travel and sadness and uncertainty over leaving her former life behind, she once again read over the brief letter from Mrs. Dartmouth directing her to the coach station where they were to meet and load her trunks onto the private carriage bound for the north. Looking once more out the carriage window, she noted that the cloudy skies which had lingered overhead for most of her journey were now beginning to open, letting their raindrops drizzle down upon the city._

_Thankful to find that the rain had not picked up by the time they reached the station, she secured her bonnet ribbons more firmly under her chin and tucked the letter into her reticule. Descending from the coach, she made her way to a nearby awning, seeking shelter from the rain while the trunks were unloaded. Once her luggage had been delivered, and a shilling passed off in appreciation, she took to scanning the roads before her, wondering how she was to recognize the lady who was to be her new employer. After nearly ten minutes of watching and waiting, her question was answered: she would not need to._

_"Miss Bennet?" She heard a voice call. Looking in the direction from which her name had come, she spotted a carriage just arriving outside the depot. In it sat a plump-faced woman with a mass of blonde curls waving gaily at her, and upon receiving confirmation that this was indeed the young woman she had hired, she called for the driver to move the carriage closer._

_Drawing to a halt before her, Elizabeth watched as the coachman jumped down from his perch and signaled to the two trunks sitting beside her. "Dem's yours?"_

_Nodding, she smiled politely as he bent to lift one trunk and carry it around to the back where it could be secured for travel. However, it struck her oddly to note that there did not appear to be any other pieces of luggage loaded on to the carriage. As far as she had understood, they were to leave for Newcastle upon her arrival. But she was distracted from these thoughts as the woman addressed her._

_"How wonderful it is to finally make your acquaintance, Miss Bennet! After all, I have heard so very much about you, I feel as if we were already long-time friends." Opening the carriage door, she scooted over on the bench, signaling for Elizabeth to climb in and make herself comfortable. Once settled, the woman then introduced herself as Mrs. Amelia Dartmouth._

_"How lovely to make your acquaintance as well," Elizabeth returned after formally introducing herself. Then, glancing about the carriage curiously, she inquired. "Are we still to leave for Newcastle today, Ma'am? I believed we were to be traveling with the children."_

_"Oh my, you must not have received my last note before your departure. There has been a small change in our travel plans. We shall not be leaving until the day after tomorrow. In the meanwhile however, we shall be staying with my sister's family."_

_Elizabeth felt the carriage jostle as her second trunk was loaded onto the back and the straps adjusted to hold it in place. "Oh, I must say that is welcome news indeed, having already spend a good part of my day on the road from Hertfordshire!"_

_Mrs. Dartmouth laughed in response and informed her that they would arrive at her sister's house in no time at all. As the carriage once again lurched into motion, Elizabeth set about inquiring after the children, set on learning as much information as she could before meeting them. While the conversation flowed smoothly, she paid little attention to their travels, not that she knew enough of London to recognize any part of their route anyway. Soon enough however, the carriage came to a halt, and she looked out the window, surprised to find they had been taken around to the back of the house. But then, she was no longer of a status which would warrant the same welcome to Mrs. Dartmouth's home as she was accustom to receiving as a gentleman's daughter._

_Dismounting, she was immediately struck by the sheer number of people wandering the alley behind the house, noting the bedraggled state of their clothes and thinness of their forms. She also noted a sudden shift in the demeanor of her employer as well as that of the coach driver. As the trunks were unloaded, being allowed to tumble carelessly onto the street, she felt Mrs. Dartmouth take her firmly by the arm and guide her through the courtyard and into the kitchen where she was met with a sight she had never before witnessed. Gathered around a rough and dirty table sat about fifteen women, all of varying ages yet all dressed in shockingly low-cut gowns, their lips and cheeks rouged as tankards sat before them._

_Turning to Mrs. Dartmouth in confusion, she found the friendly attitude and smiling features gone. In place, a cold, empty expression had settled upon the woman's face, making it appear as if it were cut from the hardest of stone._

_"What is the meaning of this?" she exclaimed, confused as to what was happening but sensing deep within her very being that something had gone horribly awry. Some misunderstanding perhaps?_

_Her question was answered with a sharp backhand to her cheek, sending her reeling backwards until her hip collided with the table around which the women were sitting. "You will ask no further questions! I shall be very clear, Miss Bennet. This is where you shall be working. The arrangements with Mr. Collins have been concluded, the money paid, and now your work begins. You will spend your days in the washroom, working with Amy and Lily until you are ready for your debut."_

_"My…? Washroom…?" Her confusion only deepening, she tried to explain that she had been hired to teach the children, but it was to no avail._

_"There are no children, Miss Bennet," Mrs. Dartmouth spat before turning to watch as the carriage driver dragged the two trunks through the kitchen entrance, heaving them onto the floor before closing the door. In a rush, the women surrounding the table rushed forth, opening the trunks and greedily gathering their contents into their arms. Gowns and shifts, slippers and books alike were snatched from her luggage, one even brazen enough to rush upon her and rip the reticule right from her very arm!_

_When Elizabeth once again tried to protest that those were her personal affects, she felt someone grab her hair and wrench her head back. Her eyes watering at the sudden, sharp pain, she turned them on the offender only to find it was Mrs. Dartmouth herself. And with her other arm twisted in a vise-like grip, she was propelled across the kitchen and through what she discovered quickly to be the washroom door. Shoved across the room, she stumbled to regain her footing, and by the time she could turn to face the woman, she found the door closing and the sound of the lock sliding into place, reverberating against the stone walls of the room._

"And that is where I remained for these four weeks past until yesterday, when Mr. Darcy freed me, bringing me here." The tears in her uncle's eyes mirrored her own as he listened, shocked into silence at such a tale. While she watched him closely, agonizing over how he would react to news such as this, she felt the irrational yet powerful fear that he may turn her away swelling in her chest.

She was tainted, ruined. Even though her innocence remained intact, such details mattered little to Society. Although not of a station similar to that of Mr. Darcy, he was still a high-ranking member of the merchant class, a class who modeled their behavior and rules of propriety on that of the Ton's highest circle. He had a wife and four young children to consider, two of them young girls. Could she truly blame him if he were to turn her from the family?

"Oh Lizzy!" he gasped, finally finding his voice after several long minutes of silence. "Oh, how terribly you have suffered! And you are certain Mr. Collins knowingly and willingly deceived us all in such a manner?"

Nodding, she explained, "I was reminded continuously of the terms of my sale and my status as her property, for she would never allow me to forget how very much I cost her. Two hundred pounds plus the cost of the coach to bring me here." Turning her eyes to her hands, she continued. "I also have no reason to doubt her story as I experienced a very strange encounter with Mr. Collins the night before my departure. Although he had not hinted at such, his tone and manner had left me feeling quite discomforted, and as I have also had much time to deliberate on all of our interactions at Longbourn, I have found many similar such encounters which now appear so clearly to allude to that which he had planned."

Gasping suddenly, her postured straightened and she reached once more for her uncle's hand, "Oh pray, tell me you have had word from Jane!"

Confused and startled by this sudden turn in their conversation, he looked at her curiously. "Yes, of course. We saw her but three days ago when she came for tea. Why are you concerned for Jane?"

"She knew her name! She knows that she is employed here in London and threatened to have her brought to the-." Choking on the very word, she was eventually forced to drop entirely if she were to continue. "If I did not cooperate, she threatened to have all of my sisters brought to her. How could she know of Jane's presence here in London and of my three younger sisters if she were not intimately connected in some way with our family?!" Her voice grew hard as she declared adamantly, "No, Mr. Collins certainly was involved."

Seeking to calm her lest she further injure herself, Mr. Gardiner hurried to inform her that Jane, as well as her other sisters, were all well. Her eldest sister was in fact a weekly visitor at the Gardiner household, electing to spend her free Sunday afternoons visiting with her relatives and playing with her cousins. As Elizabeth released a great sigh of relief upon hearing this, so did he and encouraged her to once again settle against the pillows.

"I promise you, Lizzy. You shall see Jane four days hence when she visits us all for Sunday tea."

The atmosphere of the room shifted dramatically at the swearing of such a promise, and raising her eyes to her uncle's, she was once more flooded with an overwhelming rush of joy. She was indeed being welcomed once more into the loving arms of her aunt and uncle! Through teary eyes, she read his expression, realizing that her earlier worries had not gone unnoticed, and as he now gazed upon her with a look of such tenderness, her doubts were washed away and tears once again spilled forth. Laughingly, she swiped at her cheeks and joked, "Oh, will this weepiness never cease!"

Laughing along with her, he patted her hand comfortingly. "I shall see to it that we may remove you to Gracechurch Street this very day, my dear."

"Thank you, Uncle!"

As his smile was cast upon their joined hands, he was arrested by the sight of a five small bruises now visible on her arm, the ghost of an angry hand as it had clutched her tightly, another sign of the torment under which she had suffered. Seeing a dark cloud once again forming above him, she studied him in concern as he shook his head. "There is no need to thank me, Lizzy. I felt as if there was something amiss when we had not had word from you in so long," he confessed. "I should have allowed my suspicions to guide me and sought you out sooner than this."

"Oh no! You cannot take the blame for this upon yourself! For how were you ever to suspect such a thing? We all believed Mr. Collins' lies, for there was no reason for us to not."

But he would have none of it. "I have failed you, Lizzy. And, I have failed in my promise to your father to keep you safe should the worst befall him." Raising his head, she was not surprised to see his eyes shine with unshed tears. "I shall not fail you or Thomas again, Lizzy. I promise you that."


	15. Chapter 15

Try as he might, Mr. Darcy simply could not focus on the ledgers sitting open before him. His thoughts were far too occupied with curious and, to be honest, nervous speculation about all that was occurring above stairs. As the mantle clocked chimed again to signal the passing of yet another quarter hour, the third since he had returned to his study, he surrendered all pretense of working and rose from his desk. Withdrawing to the window, his mind cast about for some occupation which would distract him from the happenings occurring at that very moment in his own home, but of which he was entitled no part.

First, he tried to assemble and then check off the list of tasks which needed to be completed before Georgiana's arrival. Groaning, he quietly cursed himself as he realized he had forgotten to visit the jewelers the previous day as originally planned; all else being overshadowed with his need to tend to Elizabeth. Intending to surprise his sister with the presentation of their mother's favorite necklace, a delicate gold chain adorned with a shell cameo of their father, he had personally seen to its delivery to Mr. Symons to be cleaned and the setting secured in time for her arrival. It was a piece of the family history even he had forgotten as memories of his mother had begun to fade with the passing of time. It was only in July, when driven by brandy and memories of his lost love, he had one night poured over his mother's jewelry, trying to decide which ring he would have presented to Elizabeth on their wedding day had she accepted him. Then he had been certain they were never to see one another again, yet life had once again seen fit to cross their paths. But it was with a heavy heart he allowed that she would soon be gone from him yet again, most likely before the return of Georgiana on the morrow.

Forcing himself to shake free of that dark cloud, as it would serve no purpose to dwell on such memories, he next tried to compose his response to his cousin Richard's letter, which had arrived in the post that morning along with the letter from his father, Lord Matlock. But visions of Richard and Elizabeth laughing together at Rosings, often at his own personal expense, danced before his mind's eye, reminding him of her very noted preference for the company of _that_ gentleman over his own. At the time, he had been convinced she did so only to further lure him into her web, leading him towards an entanglement to which his heart and body were only too willing to succumb. And Lord help him, it had worked in such a manner to which he had never before thought himself vulnerable! Too soon thereafter and to his greatest dismay, he had discovered just how very wrong he had been in his interpretation of her actions as well as her intentions.

Again forcing himself to dispel such memories, he then set about considering the approaching card party at the Fitzwilliams', the first social event into which Georgiana would make her foray. But this served only to dredge up the long suppressed fantasies which had occupied his days, and nights, in Kent; fantasies in which Elizabeth stood proudly and lovingly by his side, helping to guide his shy sister through the drawing rooms of the _Ton_ as she made her entrance into Society. However, those inevitably then gave way to visions of their return to Darcy House and withdrawal to their private chamber. Away from the prying eyes of the Ton and free of Society's suffocating constraints, oh how he had repeatedly imaged their basking in the freedom to truly love one another as a man and his wife ought.

No, these thoughts certainly would not do! Passing another twenty minutes in this manner, unsuccessful in finding a diversion which did not serve to remind him of Elizabeth and all she had once represented, he was pulled from his thoughts by a knock upon his door announcing the return of Mr. Gardiner. As the door closed once more behind the retreating footman, the two stood in silence, each observing the other closely and attempting to discern the thoughts of one another. One frustrated as he failed to sketch the character of the man who had, unbeknownst to him, provided an irrepayable service to his family; the other trying to discern the course of the conversation with Elizabeth and what it would mean for her continued presence in his home.

Finally, Mr. Darcy's good breeding reminded him of his duties as host, and he encouraged Mr. Gardiner to avail himself of one of the chairs before the desk, inquiring after his preference for a drink.

"I thank you, Sir, but I believe I am content for now."

Nodding, Mr. Darcy once more assumed his seat behind the large mahogany desk and waited for Mr. Gardiner to begin.

"I must also thank you, Sir, for your assistance in removing my niece from a most terrible situation. I know not how to repay your kindness, but I am most certainly indebted to you. Pray, never hesitate to ask of me anything which I may do to assist you in the future."

"It is no matter, Sir, I assure you. Miss Bennet's safety is all the gratitude I require." Pausing for a moment to allow Mr. Gardiner to accept his assurances, he then asked, "It is my hope you are pleased with the care she has received during her time here at Darcy House?"

"Certainly, Sir. She has praised to the heavens the diligence and kindness with which your staff have attended her. Listening to Elizabeth, one would be made to believe greater comfort nor kinder people were to be had anywhere in the empire! My appreciation again for all you and your staff have done for my niece."

Mr. Darcy bowed his head in acknowledgement, delighted to hear that Elizabeth had spoken so highly of her experience in his home. As he was about to speak, attempting to relay his pleasure at hearing such, her uncle continued unexpectedly.

"I fear I must request permission to trespass on your most gracious hospitality in one more matter however. As I arrived with you, I have not my carriage with me, and I must remove Elizabeth to my home at once. To further intrude on such generosity would be most greedy indeed!"

To say that Mr. Darcy was surprised would be a grievous understatement! First to hear of Elizabeth leaving so soon, although he had in truth suspected as much, but to also find Mr. Gardiner's quip reminding him so forcefully of his own uncle's droll sense of humor! Sitting in silence for several moments, he struggled to gather his wits enough to protest. "Sir, it is surely in Miss Bennet's, nay all our interests, if her departure from my home and arrival at your own was accomplished with as few prying eyes as possible."

Obviously not expecting such a response, Mr. Gardiner was now the one to sit in stunned silence. Turning Mr. Darcy's unexpected objection over in his mind, he quickly came to understand the implications of all that could befall Elizabeth if she were to be seen leaving the house of an unmarried gentleman in the early hours of the day, only to then arrive in Gracechurch Street unannounced and under such a mysterious turn in circumstances. His desperate need to remove her to the safety of his home having temporarily overtaking his reason. "What do you suggest, Sir?"

"Merely that Miss Bennet's removal needs to be conducted under such measures as to limit exposure of her presence here at Darcy House. And, that she be delivered to your home in a manner which would draw no suspicion. This I do not believe feasible in the immediate as we are quickly approaching midday."

As Mr. Gardiner again chewed over the gentleman's words, his mind searched for a solution which would accomplish all of this, for he had to admit the gentleman correct in his assertions, while trying to further avoid the current impropriety of her presence at Darcy House. Soon, he reluctantly admitted that such was unavoidable and purposed, "I believe it is imperative I speak with Mrs. Gardiner at once so she may set the house to work preparing for Elizabeth's arrival. While the household will certainly be surprised by this news, as they know we have had no word from her this month past, I believe we can convince them all is proper in Elizabeth's sudden, yet explainable arrival in London."

"But how? And how shall you account for where she has been since leaving Longbourn? Or that she would arrive unaccompanied in London?" These were but a few of the many questions Mr. Darcy had deliberated over the previous night as he had lain awake, consumed by the overwhelming stillness of his bedchamber. But as this was his first time making the acquaintance of Elizabeth's uncle, he was soon to be surprised to find such quickness of mind was not limited to only one member of the family.

Mr. Gardiner's mind once latched upon an idea turned swiftly, spinning the web of lies which would salvage Elizabeth's reputation. "I received an express at the warehouse. It was a letter from Elizabeth saying that an unexpected turn in the health of Mrs. Dartmouth's mother is calling the family away… to the continent." Rising from his seat, he made his way to window, weaving a tale that was as believable as it was false. "The family prepared to depart from Newcastle at once, but Elizabeth regrettably had to inform her employer that she could not accompany them, as it would take her so very far from her family. Understanding of Elizabeth's attachment to her mother and sisters, Mrs. Dartmouth agreed to part ways but graciously volunteered to take her as close to London as their travels would bring them. The family traveled through the night, and at the first changing station to which they arrived, Elizabeth drafted the express to us to announce her sudden pending arrival. As the family could not sacrifice the time to detour through London to deliver her personally, they had agreed to put her on a coach in Oxfordshire before continuing on to Portsmouth. Mrs. Gardiner and I are to meet with her at the coaching station later this evening to retrieve her."

Mr. Darcy sat in a dazed silence as he listened to the story unfold, a tale so easily spun by a man who was clearly used to thinking on his feet. "But will your workers not know that you received no such express? At the very least that young man whom I met this morning?"

"It arrived just as I was opening the office, and Robert did not arrive until about an hour or so after I. He would have no cause to question the tale should he ever be in a position to hear it, which is in and of itself highly unlikely."

The fabrication, though concocted so rapidly, was indeed rather conceivable and simple enough to provide satisfactory answers while avoiding a tangle of details which could ultimately lead to its unraveling. After turning it over several more times in his mind, he finally agreed, "I must say I see little fault with such an explanation. If you and Mrs. Gardiner would return this evening and bring your carriage around to the courtyard at the rear of the house, Miss Bennet could be escorted to it without fear of being seen by others." And after agreeing on a time which would be agreeable to all, Mr. Darcy rose from his chair.

"Well, it seems all is in order then." Mr. Gardiner once again approached his host and extended his hand in accord. Shaking upon their agreement, Elizabeth's uncle announced that he would fetch a cab to return to his warehouse, the better to avoid further questions. Making their way to the entrance hall, where an attentive footman awaited with Mr. Gardiner's hat and coat, the two bowed their farewells before Mr. Gardiner made his way from the house, leaving Mr. Darcy standing in the foyer pondering on all that had occurred.

*****PnP*****

The gentle sound of a knock upon the chamber door drew Elizabeth from her reading, and looking to the mantle clock, she discovered that the time for her departure had indeed arrived. Quietly closing the book, she rose from the chair beside the fireplace and returned it to the small stack resting upon the bedside table, a selection she had been told had been personally chosen for her by the master himself. Then withdrawing to the mirror beside the dressing chamber door, she ran her hands over the light blue material of her dress, attempting to smooth the wrinkles acquired while sitting in one attitude for so long. As she once again gazed upon the gown, she felt her eyes sting with tears at the unparalleled graciousness of Mr. Darcy. When Mrs. Chadwick had first entered the chamber the previous day with the gown in hand, she had simultaneously been thrilled at the realization she would not need to once again don that horrid dress in which she had arrived and overwhelmed at the continued generosity of a man who had already done so much for her. To then see the diligence with which Julia had worked to make the necessary alterations so the gown would fit more comfortably had also moved her deeply. While still a bit snug in the bodice, she was happy to admit the young girl had acquitted herself quite well with the needle and thread.

Another gentle knock drew her from the mirror. Opening the door, she found Mrs. Chadwick waiting patiently to lead her downstairs, and smiling kindly, she followed her from the room. As they made their way along the corridor, she was able to give more attention to her surroundings than had been possible upon her arrival. She was pleased to find the decor, while certainly indicative of the owner's wealth and status, was elegant and pleasing. Golden sconces, molded to resemble flowering vines, adorned the walls between chamber doors; the flicker of their flames dancing against the creamy walls while the light cast upon the golden detailing caused it to shimmer in the darkness. Upon marble topped tables rested Grecian style urns decorated with scenes from ancient mythology; their images of goddesses dancing among the wilderness set against vibrate blue backgrounds, adding splashes of color to what she was certain in the daylight must be a most light and airy space. And as she made her way down the marble stairs of the grand house, she was delighted to see this simple elegance continue, with only the softly colored cream of the walls giving way to an equally light green.

As she neared the bottom of the grand staircase, she was startled to find the master of the house awaiting her, milling about the entrance hall as he absently twisted the signet ring upon his left hand. The sound of her footsteps upon the marble drew his attention, and as he turned to greet her, she could not help noting the hint of a smile touching his lips as he caught sight of her. When she at last left the final step and approached him, he bowed in greeting and inquired after her welfare.

"I am well, Sir; I thank you." Hesitating for a moment, she then continued, "Indeed, I must share with you my most heartfelt appreciation for the great kindness with which you and your staff have attended me. I could not have wished for a more comfortable chamber nor kinder people than those of Julia and Mrs. Chadwick." As she spoke, she casted a look of appreciation over her shoulder, conveying her deepest gratitude to the woman who had attended her with such care.

Mr. Darcy too looked to Mrs. Chadwick and nodded in appreciation; the older woman bowing respectfully in receipt of such high praise from both the young woman and her employer. Then excusing herself to attend to her duties, she left them to their privacy. Or rather, as much as was to be had with a footman on post beside the front door and Mr. Hawkins standing at the ready to assist with the departure of their young guest.

For several moments they stood awkwardly in silence, both unsure of what more to say after all which had occurred between them. Elizabeth, now more fully in command of herself and her mind clearer than it had been in far too long, felt keenly the full significance of their once again being in the other's presence. Not only did the memories of all which had occurred in these past three days fill her with apprehension, but she felt as if this were truly the first time they were faced with one another since that dreadful morning following his proposal at Hunsford. She could not even begin to image what he must think of her after all this. Casting about for something to say, she was able to offer, "My compliments also to your excellent cook, Sir. I must confess I do not believe I have ever tasted such deliciousness."

"I shall be sure to relay your kind words to Mrs. Avery. She will be most delighted to hear them." He again smiled, this time a larger, unguarded one which hinted at the presence of two equally matched dimples in either cheek.

Again they feel into silence, each observing the other in quiet contemplation when the sound of two footmen descending the stairs, carrying a trunk between them, drew their attention. In interest Elizabeth observed as they made their way towards her, finally setting the luggage before her before bowing and withdrawing to their posts along the wall. Gazing curiously upon it for a few moments, uncertain as to what it could contain, she finally turned her attention back to Mr. Darcy and raised an eyebrow in question.

"You could not return to your uncle's home without some personal effects."

Gaping slightly, she struggled to understand what he was about. Gesturing towards the gown she wore, she quietly exclaimed, "Sir, I have naught to my name but this dress, which is not even my own!"

Also keeping his voice low so as to avoid being overheard by the staff waiting nearby, he responded, "It is of no concern, Miss Bennet. If I am to understand correctly from Mrs. Chadwick, the gowns my sister was to donate seem to be rather well matched to yourself. Pray, I wish you to have them."

"Sir, this is all too much! I cannot possibly-"

With a shake of his head, he dismissed her protests and cast a hesitant glance at the footmen position nearby. Nodding his head in dismissal, he waited until they had moved a respectable distance from the pair before further lowering his voice so only she would be able to hear. "If your uncle is to explain your sudden arrival in London as your leaving your employment as a governess, you must surely arrive with luggage and your personal effects. To do so otherwise would cast speculation upon the tale that has been adopted."

"Tale, Sir?"

Mr. Darcy then related the story her uncle had devised in explanation for both her whereabouts since September as well as her sudden and unannounced arrival in London. As he concluded, he explained it was only after her uncle had left that had he realized her need for luggage if the story was to be believed. She too saw the wisdom in this, both the story which had been concocted as well as the need to accept this very generous offer from the gentleman she felt had already done far more for her than she deserved. Expressing her appreciation for his thoughtful consideration, she turned her eyes towards the floor and again wondered why he would take on such responsibility, to give so very much to a woman who had scorned him most terribly.

"I fear it is my sister who deserves your gratitude, Miss Bennet. For she has discovered the surest way to convince me to purchase more gowns for her is to simply sprout several inches every six months," he chuckled.

His quip could not help but elicit a giggle from her as well, once again encouraging her to return her eyes to his. "How fortunate for her, indeed! I wish I had been but half so clever! To think of all the countless hours wasted traipsing across the countryside, ruining beyond repair numerous gowns, when I simply could have better put my efforts into stretching!"

Chucking together over such absurdity helped to ease some of the tension that had settled upon them, but their conversation soon fell into a lull once again. This time, it was the gentleman who took the initiative to break the silence, "Were you able to enjoy some reading? I understand Mrs. Chadwick brought a selection from the library?"

Clearly uncomfortable in his attempt at conversation, she smiled kindly in hopes of easing his discomfort, although by no means missing such a show of modesty in giving the credit to his housekeeper. "I did indeed! It was quite difficult to decide which to read first!"

Smiling in return, he inquired after what decision she had ultimately arrived at and seemed pleased to hear of her preference for _Gulliver's Travels_. "I have not had the pleasure of reading it in several years, but it has always been among my favorites."

"Mine as well," she replied, calling to mind memories of sitting at her papa's feet, listening in wonder to fanciful stories of far off places. Before she had even been able to read, she had pulled her father's atlas from the shelves and tried to find the exotic island of Lilliput. She could still remember her disappointment when he had explained to her that no such place existed, but such a revelation did little to dampen her love of the story. Now however, the memories it raised were tinged with sadness, as they served to remind her of her father's loss, and after only a few pages she had been forced to return the book to the bedside table and take up Milton's poems instead.

Realizing she had once again grown distracted, she was saved from further attempts at conversation by Mr. Hawkins approaching to announce that a carriage had arrived in the courtyard. Thankful for the reprieve, she watched as Mr. Darcy signaled to the footmen waiting on the fall side of the foyer to retrieve the trunk and then returned his attention to her, offering his arm as he intended to see her to the carriage.

Hesitating for but a moment, she rested her hand upon his arm and allowed him to guide her back through the labyrinth belowstairs. Although they passed a few servants along their journey, she was surprised to find the work space fairly empty, and it was only as they made their way into the courtyard that she realized the staff had likely been instructed to make themselves scarce while the master escorted his guest from the house. With only the footmen following, and at a respectable distance, the pair approached the waiting carriage, finding Mr. Gardiner standing beside it in anticipation.

Exchanging bows, Mr. Darcy greeted her uncle before once again quietly explaining the luggage which was currently being loaded upon the carriage. "Ah!" Uncle Edward gasped as he too grasped the implications of such an oversight. "My appreciation for such consideration and generosity, Sir!"

"Tis no trouble I assure you, Sir." He then turned to Elizabeth, but for a few moments seemed to struggle to find the words he wished to say. At last he offered, "Pray, accepted my warmest wishes for a full and timely recovery, Miss Bennet."

"Thank you, Sir," and struggle as she may, she could think of little else to say to him in that moment. Finally resigning herself to as much, she curtsied in parting and turned to her uncle to accept his hand as he assisted her into the carriage. Once there, she immediately sought her aunt, who tearily extended her arms in welcome, and collapsing into them, she held her aunt close and cried, "Oh, Aunt! How I have missed you so!"

"My Lizzy! Oh my dearest girl!" She too cried as she clutched the girl to her, as if it were her own lost babe who had been returned to her care. As they hugged each other desperately, fighting the tears that had filled their eyes, they felt the carriage jostle as Mr. Gardiner joined them, and with a knock upon the ceiling, the conveyance lurched forward, taking her from the comforts of Darcy House and to the calming familiarity of the Gardiner's home.


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:** This chapter is a bit difficult as Elizabeth discusses with Aunt Gardiner what she experienced during her time in the brothel. References sexual harassment and threats of violence, but again details are avoided. If this is difficult reading for you, skip the second part of their conversation and jump to the ***PnP*** scene break.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
The quiet sound of a catching door latch penetrated the deep slumber under which Elizabeth had been resting. Her eyes snapping open as her heart began to pound heavily in her chest, she turned towards the door. Once again, she was not greeted with the sight of the battered old washroom door, but now found in its place a wall painted in the soothing green decor of her bed chamber at her uncle's house. With a sigh of both relief and frustration, she closed her eyes and willed her mind as well as her body to be at ease, releasing the anxiety that still filled her every time she awoke. With slow breaths, forever mindful of the persistent ache in her side, she soon succeeded in gathering herself, and as she once again felt the gentle tug of sleepiness, she willingly allowed herself to follow.

However, the distinct feeling that she was being watched pulled her back sharply, and peeking beneath her eyelids, she was greeted with a pair of sparkling green eyes hovering not more than an a few inches from her own. Wide with equal parts wonder and impatience, they gazed upon her, lighting up with the realization that she was finally awake.

"Cousin Lizzy!" Sophie exclaimed gleefully as she launched herself forward, capturing her elder cousin in a tight embrace.

Wincing against the pain of a fifty pound child landing upon her chest, Elizabeth was forced to blink repeatedly in an attempt to clear the tears now stinging her eyes, not wishing for the young girl to see her distress. Choking briefly on her words, she finally managed to grunt, "Well good morning, darling."

Relieved when the girl pulled away, Elizabeth watched in amusement as her young cousin struggled to climb up onto the bed, and once the little girl was finally settled upon the mattress beside her, she inquired, "How did you know to find me?"

"I heard Mama ask Cook to bring you breaf'fest," she declared proudly; her wide smile masterfully displaying the gap in her front teeth which had previously been occupied by two baby teeth.

"Well, I am very happy indeed to begin my day with such a wonderful hug. Thank you, Sophie."

Glorying in such praise from her favorite cousin, the little girl flopped on to the mattress beside her, stretching her small body alongside Elizabeth's and taking her left hand between her own tiny ones. "Are you stayin' wif us?"

"Yes, I believe I shall be. For a while I am sure." Squeezing the six-years-old's hand gently, she basked in the simple pleasure of being once again in the company of her loved ones, a reality which had seemed all but impossible but a few days earlier.

"And we can play dolls?" the little girl asked in excitement, turning her head to gaze expectantly upon her cousin.

"Of course we shall! Why, tis my favorite part of visiting you!"

With a squeal of delight, Sophie's smile beamed happily before she began to chatter endlessly, describing in great detail the new doll which she had received for her birthday. As it became apparent to Elizabeth that further input from her was no longer necessary, she was content to simply rest peaceful beside her cousin and bask in the joy of once again being reunited with those she loved so dearly. But soon the sound of the door opening drew her attention, and she was delighted to see her aunt enter the room, followed by a young maid carrying a tray of food.

"Good morning, my dear," she greeted warmly, but as her eyes settled upon her own daughter stretched out in bed beside her niece, she exclaimed in surprise, "Sophie! Whatever are you doing in here?"

"You told Cook Lizzy was here," she explained, as if that was enough to answer her confused mother's question.

"Yes well, Cousin Lizzy needs her rest. She has had a very long journey to come visit us."

"But Cousin Lizzy promised to play dolls wif me!"

"Yes, and I am sure she will my dear, but not right now."

Approaching the bed, her aunt bent to retrieve her wayward daughter, swinging her up into her arms and settling her upon her hip. Casting an apologetic glance at Elizabeth, she declared her intention to return once her young one had been returned to the care of Nurse White and ignoring the protests from the little girl, removed her from the room.

Moving cautiously, Elizabeth finally raised herself from the pillows and moved to settle back against the headboard, thanking Annie for the tray of food which had been set upon the dressing table. Waiting until the young maid had curtsied and withdrawn from the room, she then set about slowly rising from the bed, having not wished to do so with the maid present. As she made her way to the tray and took up the plate, she realized they would need to find a way to explain the injury she had sustained. While she could walk without any signs of distress, she found standing difficult to do without wincing, and lifting objects heavier than a book to be intolerable. While the children were unlikely to notice, it would be impossible for such an oversight among the staff. And, there was certainly no possible way to keep it hidden from Jane.

Hearing the door once again opening, she turned to find her aunt had returned, this time with no others in tow. Closing the door, she quickly moved to Elizabeth's side, helping her to settle back in bed with her plate and a cup of tea in hand.

"How are you, Lizzy? Are you in much pain?"

"I must admit that I am. Oh Aunt, how are we to explain such an injury to the staff? And to Jane? For she surely will not fail to notice that there is something amiss?"

"Oh, I had not in truth the time to take such matters into consideration. But you are correct." Pausing for a few moments as she pondered on these questions, she eventually suggested, "Perhaps your uncle may be able to find a way to account for your discomfort. I shall speak with him on the matter once he returns from the warehouse."

As Elizabeth set about eating, her aunt moved about the room, tidying the chamber and passing the time by regaling her niece with stories of the children's escapades these three months past. Elizabeth laughed in joyful amusement at the tales of stolen dolls and lost frogs, at least for a short time being able to distract her mind from the worries which continued to plague her. As she finally finished her breakfast, she allowed her aunt to return the plate to the tray and bring to her another cup of tea. Then taking one up for herself, she approached Elizabeth; the change in her demeanor signaling that the inevitable conversation, which she knew needed to happen, was about to begin.

Sitting upon the bed, Madeline gazed upon her niece in silence for a few moments, now able in the light of day to more clearly see the changes that this terrible experience had wrought upon Elizabeth. A thinness in her face and the signs of exhaustion marked upon her countenance were undeniable, and they would not be easily hidden from those who knew her so very well. With a sigh, she reached for the young woman's hand, taking it within her own. "Tell me my dear, how are you truly?"

The gentle sympathy of her aunt's tone brought tears to her eyes, forcing her to turn her attention to the window as she tried to gather her thoughts, as well as her courage. When she finally felt herself capable of speaking, she returned her gaze to her aunt and answered as honestly as she could. "I know not how to describe all that I feel, all that I have endured. It has been a most terrifying experience and I fear…," she struggled to swallow the lump forming in her throat, choking her words. "I fear I never shall be free of this."

Squeezing her hand gently, Madeline tried to reassure her. "I cannot even begin to imagine what all you have suffered, nor how deeply it has hurt you. But all will be well, my dear. Your uncle and I shall see to it." But feeling the uncertainty in her own words, she watched as Elizabeth shook her head slightly and dropped her gaze to her lap. "Your uncle has shared with me all you had discussed with him yesterday." She paused as Elizabeth once again returned her attention to her. "But perhaps it would serve you well to tell me of all that has happened yourself?"

While the thought of giving voice once more to all that occurred at Madame Amelia's distressed her greatly, she could not help but admit to herself that her aunt may very well be correct. There was much she could not bring herself to say to her uncle, for it was too indelicate and exceedingly embarrassing. However, the prospect of speaking more openly with her aunt was strangely appealing. And so, she began her tale once more, explaining her arrival in London and the discovery of Mr. Collin's betrayal. As she described the conditions under which she had been forced to live and the acts of violence committed against her person, her aunt's tears flowed freely, causing her to continually dry her eyes with the handkerchief clasped firmly in one hand while her other continued to hold Elizabeth's tightly within its grasp.

"When I discovered that it was to be Mr. Darcy who would be…," Here she had to pause, still unable to say the words, to speak of that which had almost befallen her that night. "Well, I was shocked indeed!"

"And did he...?" Madeline asked, a hard edge now marking her tone.

"Oh, no! No, he would not!" She rushed to reassure her aunt, for she could not tolerate the thought of her aunt thinking so poorly of the man who had done so much for her. "He was indeed the perfect gentleman, so very considerate of my comfort." Suddenly the image of a sleeping Mr. Darcy, resting upon the floor and leaning against the chamber wall was brought to mind. She could not suppress the merry smile that came to her face as she explained, "He spent the night asleep upon the floor."

Caught off guard by the sudden smile, and curious as to the nature of the memory which had clearly distracted her niece, she quipped, "That must have made for a most uncomfortable night, indeed!"

"Yes, I am certain it did. But it did naught to slow him from acting quickly once-" again she was forced to pause, struggling to compel once more from her lips the name she never again wished to hear. "When… she returned to the chamber, he expressed his interest in purchasing me from her and did not relent in his insistence until they had reached a bargain, securing for me my freedom."

"You never did tell your uncle how much was paid. And Mr. Darcy certainly did not feel obliged to divulge such information himself. Tell me, Lizzy; how much did he pay to free you?"

Flushing at being questioned so directly on a detail she had no desire to share, she tried to avoid answering. However, Aunt Madeline would have none of it and fixed upon her a stern glare, one which her children often received when caught fibbing. Begrudgingly she was made to relent, and whispering so lowly her aunt was barely able to discern her answer, she said, "Five hundred pounds."

Gasping at such a sum, Madeline sat in quiet shock, leaving Elizabeth to wait on bated breath while her aunt tried to grapple with this information. It took several moments before she finally repeated the number, as if uncertain she had heard it correctly. But with Elizabeth's nod, she rose from the bed and quietly paced the chamber for several minutes more before finally exclaiming, "Such a sum to repay!"

"I do not believe Mr. Darcy will accept it."

Turning on her heel, Madeline stared at Elizabeth in further surprise. "Whatever can you mean?"

"I tried to discuss the matter with him after… she left the chamber, but he would not hear of it." Her cheeks flushing at the memory of his words, she explained, "He said that he was immensely grateful to be able to assist me and that seeing me restored to my family was all the reparation he required."

"But such a sum! It is simply too much; we must find some manner of repaying him!"

Elizabeth nodded in understanding. While certain he would refuse any further attempts at reimbursement, she simply could not allow for there to be no further attempts to repay at least some portion of all he had spent to attain her freedom and protect her reputation. For it had been not only the cost of her freedom for which he had assumed responsibility, but also the gowns with which she had been returned to her uncle, as well as the cost of Mr. Hodgson's care. She was also uncertain as to how much had been paid initially to win the auction, her mind having been so clouded from hunger and exhaustion at the time. As she tried to call to mind her vague recollections of that moment, she was confused to find the face of an entirely different man rising from the depths of her memory. _"Have we a deal, madam?"_

No, that certainly had not been Mr. Darcy. For despite the terror and chaos consuming her at that moment, she surely would have recognized him immediately. But who could have won the bidding if had not been Mr. Darcy? And if that is so, how did he come to be the one to enter the chamber that night?

Losing herself in these thoughts, she was not aware her aunt had once again approached the bed until she felt the duvet shift. Hearing her name called gently, she raised her eyes to find her aunt once again settled beside her and with a heavy heart realized there was about to be another unpleasant turn in their conversation.

"Lizzy, it pains me greatly to have to ask this of you, for you to have to speak of such painful memories, but I must know..." She paused as she took a deep breath, once again taking her niece's hand in her own. "While you have assured me Mr. Darcy has caused you no harm, I fear I must ask… has another…" Unable to finish her sentence, she allowed it to fade, hoping she would not have to say the words. And it was with a great rush of relief that she watched as Elizabeth quickly shook her head, her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she realized what she was being asked.

But as Elizabeth then looked away and withdrew her hand, a nervousness energy settling upon her, Madeline's heart dropped. Calling her name gently again, her fears continued to grow as her young niece refused to meet her eyes. "Lizzy, my dear, what has happened?"

Shaking her head, Elizabeth turned her eyes firmly to her hands, now clutched tightly upon her lap, as her teeth worked her lower lip anxiously. As her aunt gently prodded her to speak, she could feel the tears once again filling her eyes, a sob rising in her throat. Opening her mouth, gasping for air, the sob finally broke free, and wrapping her arms about her, she allowed the tears to flow. "There… there… w-w-was a man…" Struggling through her fears, she fought to push the words from her lips, memories which she knew only her dearest aunt would be able to help her address.

"What man?" Madeline asked quietly, moving closer to wrap an arm around her niece and lay her head against her shoulder.

"A footman. He… he would grab at me," she sobbed, curling into the protective embrace of her aunt. "Say terribly things. Threaten what he wished to do once I had… once I was… after my…" But she could not continue as the words caught in her throat.

Rocking her gently in an attempt to sooth her distress, she encouraged Elizabeth to continue, to purge from her mind the terrible secrets lurking within, for only then could the healing truly begin. With tears of her own, she listened as Elizabeth described the harassment she suffered daily at Geoffrey's hands, the grabbing and pinching, the groping and threats; the fear under which she lived every moment of every day and night that he would one day act upon all he threatened. While relieved to hear that he had never had the chance to do as he said, she was under no misgivings as to what havoc such torment would wreak upon an innocent young maiden. Indeed, what it would do to any woman.

Eventually drained of tears and the ability to say any more, Elizabeth allowed the quiet reassurances from her aunt to wash over her, soothing the chaos in her mind and the ache in her heart. When she had been freed from that prison, she had sworn to never speak of all she had suffered, but she could feel even now that her aunt had been correct. To have shared such secrets with the woman she loved almost as a mother did bring some small measure of relief. And to reveal as much and be further embraced allayed the fears that she would be turned from her family if they were to truly know the extent of her ruin.

Once the tears had stopped and her breathing once again returned to normal, Madeline gently rose from the bed, encouraging Elizabeth to rest herself. As she once again sunk into the soft comfort of the bed, she thanked her aunt for the love and care with which she had tended her. Then allowing the exhaustion to overcome her, she drifted once more into sleep.

*****PnP*****

When next Elizabeth woke, it was to the sound of the children's laughter as the thudding of small feet running along the corridor passed by her chamber door. Opening her eyes, she was surprised to find the room had grown rather dim, signaling the passing of the sun into the late hours of the afternoon. Curious as to how long she had been asleep, she rose slowly from the bed and glanced about the chamber. Finding the breakfast tray had long since been removed, she was pleased to discover a fresh pot of tea and a small selection of her favorite cakes resting upon the dressing table, which must have been delivered for afternoon tea. But as she tenderly touched her hand to the porcelain, she found it cold. She had indeed been asleep for quite a long while!

Once again hearing the sound of children's laughter as they ran down the hall, she decided the time had come for her to leave her chamber, announcing her presence in London to any in the household who were not already aware. Working as quickly as she could, she dressed herself once more in the light blue gown in which she had arrived and made her way downstairs, careful to avoid being seen by the four Gardiner children currently at play in the nursery. Supposing her aunt to be in the drawing room, she made her way towards the front of the townhouse and was surprised to find not only her aunt, but also Uncle Gardiner within.

Seated together on the settee and engaged quietly yet intently in conversation, they at first did not notice her entrance into the room. While their voices were too low to be overheard, she could not but deduce the topic of their exchange; for what else was there to discuss but Elizabeth's situation? Deciding it would be best to announce her arrival, she quietly cleared her throat and watched in part in amusement as they turned to her; Mr. Gardiner quickly moving to a more discrete distance from his wife before rising to his feet.

"Ah, Lizzy!" He greeted and, while inquiring after her well-being, moved to assume a seat in the armchair across from her aunt.

"I am indeed feeling much better, Uncle. I thank you." Encouraged to assume the now empty seat upon the settee, she settled beside Aunt Madeline and, after accepting a cup of tea, expressed her surprise at finding him home early from the warehouse.

"Yes, I did not wish to be away for too long today," he explained; the welcoming smile from before now fading from his countenance. Pausing, he took another sip of his tea before continuing, "I believe it would be best if we did not allow too much time to pass before we discussed how best to proceed."

"Proceed?" Elizabeth asked. Worry filling her breast, she began to fear that perhaps her aunt and uncle had decided not to allow her continued presence in their home after all.

"Yes, we shall be seeing Jane in three day's time, and I do not believe it would be advisable to enter into such a reunion without first deciding what she shall be told concerning your time away from Longbourn."

Sighing audibly in relief, she turned her attention to her aunt as Mrs. Gardiner responded, "Surely we cannot but tell Jane the truth! For once she sees Lizzy, she will be able to discern that all has not been well!"

For the first time, Elizabeth found herself considering how the discovery of such treachery, and by a member of their own family no less, would affect her dearest sister. It shook her to her very core to imagine such a generous soul, one so convinced that there existed naught but goodness in the world, to be faced with the horrors of such a cruel truth. It was for Jane's protection she had finally been forced to succumb to Madame Amelia's demands; the thought of her sister being hurt in such a manner stripping from her the few remaining shreds of courage which she had thus far managed to retain. While Elizabeth would never again be able to look upon her fellow man with the same innocent eyes she once had, she did not wish Jane to suffer such crushing disillusionment as well.

"No, we cannot tell her!" The fierceness of her tone as she declared such surprising the Gardiners, leaving them sitting in stunned silence for several moments. "I will not allow the likes of such a man to ruin forever the happy innocence of my dear Jane, nay of any of my sisters. They cannot know."

"I agree it would be best if Fanny and your other sisters were provided with the same story concerning your employment in Newcastle. But to deceive Jane as well? Surely you realize that will be far more difficult to maintain?" Mr. Gardiner protested. "Not only will she be able to discern at once that you are not in the best of health, but she knows you far too well to know that you are hiding something from her."

"Jane is predisposed to think well of everyone, especially myself. While I by no means wish to deceive her and do not take lightly that I will be betraying her trust in me, to know all that has happened will simply ruin her. I will not see her hurt in such a manner."

"Then what are we to say to account for the poor turn in your health?" Mrs. Gardiner asked.

As they sat in silence, each engaged in deep concentration, they sought any possible excuse which could both explain the alterations that had been wrought in Elizabeth while also not causing Jane any distress. And after several minutes spent in that attitude, no one was able to offer any solution.

"Perhaps we should set aside that question for now," Mr. Gardiner suggested, breaking the heavy silence in the room. "We must also discuss how to address the situation with Mr. Collins," her uncle practically growling as he was forced to utter the man's name.

"To alert Fanny to Lizzy's presence here would undoubtedly result in Mr. Collins discovering that his scheme has been uncovered." Her aunt pointed out. "Given what he has already shown himself capable of, I do not believe it would be wise to alert him to such just yet. Certainly not with Fanny and the girls still living under his protection at Longbourn."

"I agree most heartily, my dear. I do believe it would be wise at this juncture to conceal from your mother your presence here, Lizzy. Although she has expressed in her letters a growing concern at not hearing from you these five weeks past."

"Perhaps I shall write to her? Pretend I am still in the employ of Mrs. Dartmouth and am writing to her from Newcastle?"

"But would that not raise suspicions in Mr. Collins when he discovered your mother had word from you?" Aunt Madeline offered, although rather begrudgingly at the prospect of causing her sister further worry.

"I am afraid you are correct again, my dear. No, I believe it would be too dangerous to have any contact at this point in time." Rising from his chair, he made his way to the window, frustrated at their inability to do anything as far as Longbourn was concerned. "As long as they continue to live under his protection, nay anywhere in Hertfordshire, there is not much that can be done."

"But they have nowhere else to go!" Elizabeth protested, her frustration also rising as her concern for her mother and sisters continued to grow. As the room once again lapsed into silence, its three occupants felt acutely the distress of the situation. For Elizabeth had been correct in estimating that while yes, he was a successful businessman, her uncle had not the space nor the money to permanently take on the care of six additional women. Especially given their recent suspicions that Mrs. Gardiner may again be with child.

"But after Sunday, we shall not be the only ones who know of Lizzy presence here in London," Mrs. Gardiner noted. "How shall we convince Jane to also remain quiet about your no longer being in Newcastle? She has told me herself that your mother has repeatedly expressed her growing concerns in letters to Jane as well."

Once again, the stillness in the room consumed Elizabeth, her disquiet increasing as further questions arose, questions which could not be easily brushed aside. Yes, Jane would recognize that she was in poor health, and she would not be convinced to accept the story of all being well in Newcastle until the family had been called away to the continent. No, she would insist on knowing all that had transpired to leave her sister in such a terrible state, especially once asked to join the deception against their mother. She has been a fool indeed to believe she could deceive Jane in such a manner when the truth was etched upon every fiber of her being. With a heavy heart, she realized Jane would have to be told of all that had truly happened during those dark days on King Street.

"Perhaps Jane does not need the truth," Mr. Gardiner offered, his voice cutting through the quiet. "But also does not need the same explanations as others." As he turned from the window, he found both women turning upon him faces masked in confusion. "She will know that something terrible has indeed happened to Lizzy; to hope for otherwise is unrealistic. However, she does not need to know the true nature of what that terrible situation entailed. Elizabeth did indeed go into the employ of Mrs. Dartmouth, only it was she who deceived the family when she took Lizzy into her employment."

"Uncle?" Her confusion becoming even greater as he continued.

"When you arrived in Newcastle, you found Mrs. Dartmouth to be a cruel woman, who put you to work among the maids when you were not tending to the children." Pausing, he allowed his wife and niece the time to realize the full implications of this tale, watching as their faces lit in understanding.

"She kept you so occupied with tending to chores that you were worked ragged during your time in her employ. Not wishing to concern your family with the truth of what you were enduring, you instead wrote to us requesting assistance. Immediately upon receiving your letter, we attained the coach tickets needed to ferry you to London and sent them to you posthaste. And knowing Fanny's... proneness to fits of nerves, we have all agreed to keep the true nature of your work in Newcastle from her, as well as everyone else."

"And therefor ask of Jane to also refrain from alerting Mama to my presence here in London," Elizabeth finished.

"Precisely."

As she chewed over this story, Elizabeth found she was still greatly concerned for Jane learning of the hardships under which she had lived, even in this highly altered version of the truth. For she still knew it would pain her sister deeply to hear of the strain under which she had been laboring, especially while Jane had found only contentment in her employment as governess to the Daventry children. Expressing her continuing concerns for Jane's well-being, she was deeply disappointed by her uncle's response that avoidance of such was simply impossible given her current state.

"This will explain your poor health as well as the reason the family has not had word from you since your departure from Hertfordshire. It will also warrant her assistance in spreading the previously devised tale of your leaving the Dartmouth's employ under amicable circumstance."

"But how long are we to tell Jane we wish these secrets kept?" Mrs. Gardiner asked, having realized that Jane could not be expected to keep this secret from her mother for very long.

"I believe for now we must say that we are still considering how best to proceed. To send Lizzy back to Longbourn would only add to the strain of caring for their mother and sisters, and we are certainly quite pleased to have her with us in the interim, assisting her in returning to full health." As he watched his niece worry her napkin, he reasoned that they had discussed more than enough today, and wishing to help her once again be at ease, he suggested, "In that time, we shall find a way to safely remove your mother and sisters from Longbourn." As he approached his niece and laid a comforting hand upon her shoulder, he assured her, "I shall not allow them to continue to rely upon a man so unworthy of their trust. You have my word, Lizzy."

And so, with at the very least the immediate matter concerning Jane settled, they returned to their tea and turned their discussion to happier topics until Mrs. Gardiner sent for the children to be brought down to greet their cousin.


	17. Chapter 17

The flurry of activity surrounding the arrival of Miss Darcy was certainly a sight to behold. As multiple footmen were called upon to haul the trunks of Miss Darcy, as well as her maid and Mrs. Annesley, through the front entrance of the house and up the stairs, Mr. Hawkins hurried to tend to the young miss' bonnet and pelisse. Standing beside him, Mrs. Chadwick peppered the young lady with a barrage of questions concerning her comfort. Would she care for a spot of tea? A light repast? Perhaps she should have a bath drawn? Or would she simply prefer to rest following her long journey? And of course added to all this, the reunion of the Darcy siblings after having not been in each other's company these six weeks past.

"Brother!" She exclaimed in joy as she espied the gentleman emerging from his study, making his way across the foyer. Finally struggling free of her pelisse, she rushed forward and into the open arms of her guardian, who immediately wrapped her in a warm embrace, thankful to once again have his dear sister safely returned to his care.

"Welcome home, my dear!"

"It is so lovely to be home! I have missed you all terribly!"

As they withdrew from their embrace, he held her at arm's length, quickly looking over her for a moment before exclaiming, "Goodness, have you grown even taller since last I saw you?"

With a merry laugh, a sound which served to further warm her brother's heart, she stepped away and assured him that she had not. "You have no need to fear, Brother. I shall not require another visit to the modiste until Christmas at the earliest."

With another laugh, he greeted Mrs. Annesley as well before glancing about the entrance hall, surprised to discover Lord and Lady Matlock were nowhere to found. "Did our Aunt and Uncle not accompany you?"

"Oh no, they wished me to convey their regrets that they could not visit with you upon our arrival. They are quite tired from the journey and wished to return to Matlock House as soon as may be. If you are agreeable, however, they wish us to dine with them on the morrow."

"Certainly. I shall send a note at once to accept their invitation." Then observing his sister's countenance, he inquired, "Are you quite tired, dearest? Do you wish to rest as well?"

"I do. I fear I must concede to feeling as such, having been traveling these last five days. If you would allow, Brother, I believe I shall rest before dinner."

"Of course. I shall look forward to hearing about your travels with our aunt and uncle as we dine."

Then making their farewells, Mr. Darcy watched contentedly, a small smile about his lips, as she mounted the stairs, followed closely by the entourage of Mrs. Chadwick, Mrs. Annesley and Emily, her maid. Once they had gained the landing and disappeared from his sight, he then turned his attention to Mr. Hawkins who was still loitering about the entrance hall, awaiting any orders which the master may wish to issue. Upon informing the butler that he would be attending to business for the remainder of the day, he then withdrew to the quiet solitude of his study where he once again settled at his desk and turned his concentration on the letters of business awaiting him. However, as he had come to expect, he was soon diverted as his thoughts return to those which had plagued him the previous evening.

_Following the removal of Elizabeth that evening, Darcy House had once again settled into the relative quiet that so marked the residence of the Darcy family. Feeling the weight of such silence pressing heavily upon him, he had chosen to retire for the evening not long after the young miss' departure, requesting only a light repast be delivered to his chambers. Once there, he had dismissed Fletcher, his excuse being his desire to spend his evening reading the latest volume of Wordsworth's, Guide to the Lakes, in preparation for Georgiana's arrival. However, once left to his solitude, he had instead sat before the fire for hours, watching the flames dance to and fro as he sat in quiet contemplation on all that had occurred since last seeing Elizabeth all those months prior in Kent; his encounter with the young lady leaving him with far more questions than answers._

_What had happened to Mr. Bennet? Although rarely in the gentleman's company during his time in Hertfordshire, he had no reason to suspect him to be in poor health. Surely if such were the case, he would not have been able to avoid the loud lamentations of the gentleman's wife, who bothered not at all to check herself in the airing of her grievances while in company. Had he met with some terrible accident? Or was it perhaps a sudden turn in his health?_

_And what of Mrs. Bennet and the rest of Elizabeth's sisters? She had alluded to their reliance upon Mr. Collins; his stomach again turning at the thought of that toad. Were her mother and sisters still living upon the charity of the scoundrel? And if so, which of the Bennet ladies would be the next to suffer as result of his unscrupulous actions? Would he seek to supplement his income by selling of his predecessor's daughters one by one? How could a man of the cloth even engage in such a predatory and debauched manner?!_

_But it was another question which troubled him even more than these: why Elizabeth? She was an intelligent, proper young lady who indeed could have served as a governess to a wealthy family, sending her wages back to Longbourn to assist in the support of her family. Why commit such a devious betrayal against her? And how much was he given in exchange?_

_But it had been done, and what of her future now? Mr. Darcy was a man of the world and knew the difficulties she would yet face, especially if she were to be recognized. Her reputation, although currently in tact as she was hidden away from Society's prying eyes, was perched precariously upon the edge. If she were to be recognized upon her reemergence into Society, all would have been for naught. And if so were to occur, it would indeed mean a dark future for her. No respectful family would take her on as a governess then, and her family as a whole would be lost, caught in the downfall of an unwitting pawn._

_Yet, for as dark as these thoughts were, none distressed him greater than the possibility that this may have marked the last time he may ever again be in the presence of the lovely Miss Elizabeth Bennet. He had always accepted the probability that their paths may have crossed again should Bingley choose to return to Netherfield, a decision with which his friend still grappled. If he had finally decided in favor of returning, they would have again been forced into company, knowing he would not have been able to resist the temptation to once again travel to Hertfordshire and stand in the presence of his beloved. But as she most certainly could not return to Longbourn while Mr. Collins remained its master, and living under the protection of a tradesman, no matter how wealthy he may be, ensured there remained no other opportunity for their paths to cross._

_For hours he struggled against these thoughts, quietly nursing several glasses of brandy. When the mantle clock had struck upon one in the morning, he had finally set aside the remainder of his drink and returned to his bed for the night. But even in the darkness of the night's late hours, sleep continued to allude him, and soon his thoughts brought him once more to that which he had desperately tried to avoid, the memory of Elizabeth standing before him. The sheerness of the chemise revealing her so sensually to his gaze as the siren's call of her soft, sweet skin begged for his touch. His fingers still tingled at the memory of caressing the lush curve of her hips as he had held her in his grasp, while he could still recall the sweet taste of her skin upon his lips._

_Groaning, he felt his body once again coming alive, burning with the carnal desires her presence always served to arouse. Turning over once more, he buried his face against the pillow, fighting to suppress the urges of his baser self. To allow himself pleasure at the recalling of such memories would only further exploit the terrible situation into which his love had been forced; to do so further violating her dignity. Rising from the bed, he made his way to the wash basin, dousing his face and neck with the cold water resting within. After several further splashes, while forcing his mind to focus on counting backwards from thirty in Latin, he finally felt his ardour cooling and returned to the comfort of his bed, determined to keep his mind from once again drifting into such distasteful occupation._

Finding these thoughts once again too diverting, he willed his attention to return to the matters at hand and once more took up the letter sitting open before him on the desk. It was a short missive from his steward, Mr. Hayward, who was currently overseeing the final days of the autumn harvest at Pemberley. Looking over the note, he was pleased to hear that the harvest had once again been as abundant as expected, and they could be confident there would be more than enough to sustain the tenants as well as the manor house through the long months of the Derbyshire winter. Writing a similarly short note in response, he sanded and sealed the letter to his steward before next taking up his quill to pen his note to his Fitzwilliam relatives, accepting their invitation to dinner at Matlock House the following evening.

Rising from his desk, he made his way from his study, finding one of the footmen at work tending to the lighting of the lamps about the foyer. Summoning the man from his task, Mr. Darcy passed him the missive destined for his Aunt Fitzwilliam and issued his instructions that he wished it to be brought to Mr. Hawkins, who would then see to its delivery to Matlock House that evening. Then, climbing the stairs to the second level, he made his way towards his chambers to dress for dinner.

The following hour found the gentleman standing at one of the windows of the townhouse's drawing room, hands clasped behind his back as he awaited the arrival of his sister. Clasped securely in his right hand was the small velvet pouch containing their mother's cameo, which he had thankfully remember to retrieve from Mr. Symons shop earlier in the day. The cleaning had worked wonderfully and the necklace was once again restored to its stunning beauty, as it had been years prior when worn each day by the late Lady Anne Darcy.

Hearing the door opening behind him, he turned and smiled as his sister glided into the room, her movements graceful and her posture as rigid yet flowing as was expected of a young gentlewoman, a testament to the diligence of Mrs. Annesley in preparing her charge for her debut next year.

After exchanging greetings, he inquired after her health and was pleased to hear the few hours of rest had served to revive her, or rather at least enough to enjoy dinner with her brother.

"I must be honest, though. I know not how long I shall be able to keep my eyes open beyond dessert," she jested.

"Very well, all the more reason then for me to present this to you now," he smiled and then pulled his hand from behind his back, displaying the velvet pouch for her interested gaze.

"Oh, Brother!" she gasped, her eyes wide with equal parts surprise and curiosity. Thanking him profusely and exclaiming how shameful she felt for not thinking to bring him a gift from her travels, she accepted the present and settled upon the settee.

"Worry not, my dear. I vow I shall take no offense at such an egregious oversight by my only sister."

Looking to him in concern, Georgiana's heart dropped even further in receipt of such a just scolding from her guardian. Desperate to apologize, she began to ramble, "Oh, but I did not mean to! I assure you I thought of you every day while I was away! Surely you must know from all the letters-" Suddenly she stopped, having caught sight of the slight twitching at the corner of his lips, and as her expression quickly shifted from one of mortification to one of exasperation, she cried, "Tis not fair to tease me so!"

Unable to contain his mirth at the rather ridiculous picture she now presented, her brow tight and her lips pursed in displeasure, he chuckled heartily as he settled beside her on the settee. "Truly, tis of no concern. Pray, open it."

Taking a few seconds longer to glare at him in disapproval, she then turned her attention to the velvet pouch resting upon her lap and with delicate fingers, loosened the string binding it before then turning back the folds. With a gasp, her fingers flew to her lips as she whispered, "Oh!"

Anxious of her reaction, he ducked his head to catch her expression and was not to be disappointed. Her eyes shone with wonder as she reached forth her hand, tracing the delicate carving with her fingertips. "Tis beautiful!"

"Twas our mother's."

Further surprised by such a discovery, she returned her gaze to him, the question on her lips written in every aspect of her expression. "Truly?"

"Aye." As he proceeded to explain the origins of the heirloom, he found himself quickly overcome with an intense sense of nostalgia, thinking back on the happier days before his mother's illness. "You were too young to remember, I am sure, but Mother wore this necklace nearly every day. She had commissioned the creation of it during their holiday in the Italian states, having become quite taken with the artistry during their travels. Somehow she had convinced Father to sit for the taking of his likeness, although how I could not even attempt to imagine, and was greatly pleased with the result."

"This is Father?"

For a moment he was rendered silent, uncertain as to how she had failed to recognize the bust carved so intricately into the white shell. But with a sadness he had not expected, he was once again made to remember how very young his sister had been when their Father had taken ill; the man he was upon his death hardly resembling the one of Mr. Darcy's childhood memories. Turning his eyes once more to the pendant, he nodded and quietly cleared his throat. "I myself had nearly forgotten of its existence until recently. While…" Stumbling briefly as he recalled what particular motivation had driven him to pull from the safe his mother's jewels, he quickly recovered, "While taking an inventory of Mother's jewelry, I discovered it. I know she would wish you to have this."

Again Georgiana sighed in wonder as she lifted the necklace from the velvet folds, holding it up to allow the light to catch on the delicate gold chain; the brilliant white shell glowing in the candlelight. Then, with fingers trembling slightly, she clasped the chain around her neck and moved to the mirror to examine her reflection. Turning once more to her brother with a watery smile, she thanked him. "This is truly such a thoughtful gift, and I shall treasure it always."

"Tis a great pleasure indeed to see you wearing it."

A knock upon the door announced that dinner was ready, and offering his arm to her, he escorted Georgiana downstairs to the dining room, confident he had made the correct decision in presenting it to her. As they arrived at the table and settled in their chairs, he inquired after her travels in the Lake District and listened in pleasure and great interest as she regaled him with detailed descriptions of the lakes, the people they had met, and the antics of his Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam once they had spent too much time in one another's presence.

"And I was deeply concerned that she may actually pitch the pheasant at him if he had not apologized!"

Tears brimming his eyes, Mr. Darcy hearty laughter filled the dining room as she finished her tale; the footmen attending to the removal of the second course masterfully hiding their smiles as they too listened discretely to the young miss' woes.

"Twas not funny! I did not know what I would have been able to say in apology to the innkeeper once there was pheasant strewn about his dining room!"

This only caused her brother to once again burst forth with laughter as his sister glared at him in earnest. Taking several moments more to gather himself, he responded, "My apologies to you, dearest. I should have better prepared you for surviving the company of our aunt and uncle once they have been in too close of quarters for such an extended period of time."

"Well, I certainly shall not be forgetting that lesson any time in the near future." As she watched the dessert be set before her, she then asked, "And what of you, Brother? How have you spent these six weeks past?"

Her question serving to sober him immediately, he first turned his attention on the apple cake which had been placed before him, moving it restlessly around on his plate as he responded, "I tended to business matters. There was much to be done with the overseeing the harvest, as we were certainly blessed with a bountiful yield this year."

"That is wonderful news!"

Nodding absently, he finally raised a bite to his lips and willed the conversation to once again change course. When it did, however, it was not in any way an improvement over the last, and he was just barely prevented from choking on his cake by his sister's next question.

"Oh, Emily has told me that the dresses I was to donate are no longer in the trunk in my dressing room. Have you some idea as to where they may be?"

Quickly taking a swill of his coffee in an attempt to rinse the remnants of cake from his throat, he cast about for a response. He had not, in all honesty, expected Georgiana to notice that the gowns had been removed and therefor had not been prepared to account for them. Swallowing the scalding liquid too rapidly, he was then sent into a small fit of coughing as the bitter brew burned its way down his throat.

"Oh, Brother! Are you well? Shall I fetch Mrs. Chadwick?" Georgiana asked in concern, leaping from her seat and rushing to his side to assist him.

Waving her away, he gestured for her to resume her seat, and finally gaining control once more of his breath, he answered, "Pray do not worry yourself, I am well. As to your gowns, I asked Mrs. Chadwick to see to their donation." With a small quirk of the lips, he added mischievously, and if he were to be honest, rather creatively, "Knowing you were to arrive with no fewer than ten trunks, I thought it best to ensure you had the room needed to accommodate all I am sure Aunt Rebecca has purchased for you."

Laughing in response, she then turned her interest once more to the dish before her and in light banter, they concluded their meal, thankfully without any further attempts to choke the master of the house. Soon after, she announced her intention to retire for the evening, and seeing her to her door, he too withdrew to his chambers, needing time to once again gather his thoughts.

*****PnP*****

"Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy," the footman announced, stepping aside to allow the guests to enter the drawing room at Matlock House. As they entered, the siblings were greeted warmly by their aunt and uncle, despite the undeniably frosty atmosphere of the room. Struggling to hide his smile, Mr. Darcy succeeded in executing a flawless bow in greeting to his relatives while quietly speculating on how long it would be before the ease of Matlock House would be restored.

While his Aunt and Uncle Fitzwilliam were a couple happy in their marriage, it was well known among the family that their tolerance for the other's company did tend to wane the longer they were confined in close quarters. At a young age, he had learned that quarters as tight as a carriage or a room at an inn were not enough to maintain harmony for long, and within a few short days, there was bound to be a deterioration of their good graces towards one another. It was with good reason that he and his cousins had kindly turned down their invitation to travel with the couple that summer.

"I hope your travels were well enjoyed," he began, and hoping to help ease the tension in the air, he then expressed his appreciation for the diligent care with which they had tended his sister.

"Oh, she was an absolute delight!" Aunt Rebecca declared, motioning for her young niece to assume the empty space beside her on the settee. Then noticing the cameo adorning the young girl's attire, she exclaimed in surprise, "Oh, my dear! Such a beautiful necklace! Why... is that your dear mother's cameo?"

"Thank you, Aunt," she blushed, dropping her eyes briefly to her lap in her discomfort at such attention. But once again remembering Mrs. Annesley's tutoring on how to properly receive such compliments, she returned her eyes to her aunt's and smiled gently. "Yes, twas a gift from Fitzwilliam upon my homecoming yesterday."

Turning to her husband, Lady Rebecca's expression was one of wistfulness as she called to mind the happy memories of the Darcys during the early days of their marriage, days long before Lady Anne had become ill. Her husband too appeared to be caught in his own remembrances of his dear sister as he gazed upon the pendant; her loss so many years prior having affected him deeply. The atmosphere of the room shifting from one of apprehension to one of quiet reflection as each were lost in their own distant memories of the late Mr. and Mrs. Darcy.

Shaking free from these thoughts first, Mr. Darcy moved to join his uncle in the arm chairs across from the ladies, inquiring after the sights they had visited while on holiday, pleased to see his aunt's merry description of the lakes perpetuating the lighter air of the room. It was as such that the small party remained engaged for nearly a quarter hour before a knock upon the door interrupted their conversation.

"Edward!" His aunt cried in surprise, causing Mr. Darcy's head to snap to attention, turning in his seat to see that it was indeed his libertine of a cousin crossing the threshold.

"Good evening, Mother!" He greeted before bending to place a kiss upon her cheek.

"I had not thought you to be in earnest when you said you wished to join us for dinner."

With a laugh, Edward then looked about the small group gathered, his eyes finally coming to rest on Mr. Darcy. "When I heard you were to have both our Darcy cousins to dine, why I simply could not stay away! Good evening, Darcy! I say it seems an age since last I saw you."

The smirk on his cousin's face only served to make him increasingly uncomfortable, causing him to shift restlessly in his chair; his expression stormy as he watched Edward then turn to Georgiana. "But not nearly so long as it has been since last I had the honour of your company! Good evening, Georgiana."

In great agitation, he seethed as Edward then lifted his sister's hand to his lips, causing the young girl to flush in her discomfort and cast her eyes once more to her lap; her eldest cousin's presence always setting her ill at ease.

"I must agree with your mother, Edward. I had not expected you to attend us this evening. Are you quite certain your presence is not expected elsewhere?" The displeasure at his son's unprecedented appearance evident.

"No set plans, no." The room then fell into tense silence as he made his way to the side table, helping himself to a generous pour from the decanter of brandy resting upon it.

Not wanting the evening to be lost, Lady Matlock then attempted to revive the conversation in which they had been engaged prior to the unexpected arrival of such an unwelcome guest. Seeking Georgiana's thoughts concerning her time in the north, she was met with great resistance as the young girl offered little in the way of conversation and instead kept her eyes trained upon her lap. And it was with a great sigh of relief from most of the occupants in the room that dinner was announced, and suspecting his cousin of further mischief, Mr. Darcy hurried to offer his sister his arm before Edward could approach her. As such, he was able to secure Georgiana's seat at the table, conveniently placed between himself and his uncle; even if such a sacrifice did result in his having to face Edward over the table for the duration of the meal.

As the first course was set before them, Edward inevitably asked, "So tell us, Darcy! How have you been occupying your time while Georgiana was away on her exciting tour of the lakes?"

Nearly dropping his spoon, his eyes darted up and fixed upon his cousin a look as startled as it was angry. But not wishing to draw attention to his ire, he once again forced his expression into one of studied indifference before replying, "I have been attending to business at Pemberley and again here in Town."

"Business, bah! Such an uninteresting use of one's time. Tell me, were you able to find at least some distraction with which to entertain yourself since you arrived in town?"

His glare becoming harder as his jawed twitched in agitation, he elected to simply respond, "No," before once again turning his attention to his soup.

"Tis a shame! There is much pleasure to be had if one can pry oneself from the dreariness of work."

"Yes, you would certainly know all about that, would you not?" he bit back.

Sensing Georgiana becoming increasingly distressed at the tense exchange between the cousins, he decided all would be better served if he were to firmly turn the conversation from Edward. Addressing his uncle, he broached a subject he knew the man would not fail to expound upon with great interest, and yet would leave his cousin with little opportunity to speak. "Pray Uncle, do you believe Parliament shall be addressing the increasing frequency of these acts of vandalism by these Luddites, as they call themselves?"

And so passed the remaining two courses as the Earl railed against the burgeoning movement, outraged at the amount of damage their attacks were causing, not to mention the financial implications of such destruction. Correct in his understanding of Edward's distaste for politics, his cousin had been forced to remain fairly quite throughout the rest of the meal, as anyone's attempt to speak was easily drowned out by the outburst of yet another rant from his uncle. By the time the dessert dishes were cleared, he was rather proud of his ability to outmaneuver his cousin.

"Well, after such scintillating dinner conversation, I must say it has rather put me in mind for some of your rather fine port," Edward declared as he rose from his chair, and turning to the ladies asked, "If such is acceptable to you ladies, you will excuse us while we withdraw to Father's study. Shall we meet you in the drawing room in, say, a half-hour's time?"

Watching as his uncle also began to rise from his chair, Mr. Darcy protested, "I do not believe with a family party as small as this, parting from the ladies is in order."

But his case was already lost as his aunt also rose from her seat, etiquette forcing him to do likewise. "Stuff and nonsense, Fitzwilliam. I am certain Georgiana and I shall be able to acquit ourselves nicely while you gentlemen enjoy your port. Come along, my dear."

Defeated in his attempt to avoid any further conversation with his cousin, he followed the gentlemen from the dining room and made his way down the hall to his uncle's study. Once inside the rather masculine domain of the Earl, he settled into one of the plush leather chairs before the fire, thanking his uncle as he was handed a glass of port. Then watching in frustration as his cousin assumed the chair beside him, he steeled himself for whatever barbs were next to be hurled.

"I say, Darcy, have you the opportunity of late to visit White's?" Edward asked, a knowing smirk featured prominently upon his face.

Shooting his cousin a warning glare, he answered brusquely, "I have, indeed."

"Would you not agree then that the company to be had about town has become exceedingly entertaining? Certainly well worth pulling yourself from your business dealings, is it not?"

"I fear I must disagree. I have found the crowds quite to my distaste." Then driven by his increasing discomposure, Mr. Darcy sprung from the chair and withdrew to the bookshelf lining the wall at the far end of the room, attempting to keep his temper, as well as his embarrassment, in check. Of all those he knew who could have born witness to such a moment of weakness, why must it have been Edward? Although, in truth, there were no others among his close family nor friendly acquaintances who would have encouraged him to behave in such a manner in the first place.

"Truly?" Edward exclaimed, his surprise appearing genuine to Mr. Darcy as he turned once more to look upon his cousin. "I should think you must surely have found at least one who could quite satisfy your tastes."

Quickly draining the last of his port from his glass, Mr. Darcy declared, "You will excuse me, Uncle, Edward. I find these six weeks past have been far too long for me to be away from Georgiana. I believe I shall return to the company of my aunt and sister."

"Very well," Lord Matlock agreed, as he too finished his drink and rose from his chair. However, Mr. Darcy did not miss the concerned glance he received from the Earl before making his way to the door, hinting that the strange nature of the exchange between the two younger men had not escaped his notice.

Following the men from the room, he trailed closely behind his cousin, intent on speaking with him before they returned to the drawing room. Allowing his uncle to precede them, he quickly grabbed Edward by the arm, pulling him several feet from the open door. Then spinning his cousin about to face him, he whispered fiercely, "Stop this at once! You have had your amusement, and it shall end now."

Attempting to take a step back from his enraged cousin, Edward found the grasp on his arm too tight to shake loose. "Oh, come now, Darcy! You must allow me some small measure of entertainment at your expense! To know the Paragon of Morality himself is capable of lowering himself to walk among us mere mortals is refreshing indeed!"

"I am not at all like you, nor the hedonistic company you choose to keep! And you will swear to me now that you shall never again bring this matter to my attention or to any other's. Am I clear?"

"Yes, yes!" And feeling his cousin's grip begin to loosen, he pulled his arm free and stepped away from the imposing figure of an angry Fitzwilliam Darcy. "Although, I shall not forget the twenty pounds you still owe me," he quipped before turning on his heel and finally making his way through the drawing room door.

Taking a few moments to collect himself, he once again assumed his mask of stony disinterest before also entering the drawing room. No longer feeling equal with enduring any more time in his cousin's presence, he politely made his excuses to his aunt and uncle and asked for the carriage to be called. As Edward also took the opportunity to excuse himself, the group made its way into the entrance hall, exchanging their tense farewells as he left. Then donning their outwear, they chatted more comfortably with their relatives while they awaited the arrival of the Darcy carriage.

As the women were chatting genially between themselves, Mr. Darcy found his uncle gesturing for him to join him in moving several steps from the ladies. And once doing so, inquired, "What was all that between yourself and Edward?"

Shifting his weight anxiously from one foot to the other, he dismissed the exchange as yet another bout of disagreements between the two, claiming he was put on edge with Edward's unwelcome behavior towards Georgiana. Although seeing his uncle did not seem quite convinced with this explanation, he was relieved to see that he was willing to let the matter rest, knowing the two cousins to often be on unfriendly terms. Rejoining the ladies, they then made their farewells and retreated to their carriage, both Darcys thankful to be on their way back to Berkeley Square.


	18. Chapter 18

The morning of Jane’s weekly visit found Elizabeth restless and her patience running rather short as she awaited the arrival of the afternoon hours. Advised that Jane would call no earlier than the lunching hour, she had been left to find a means of busing herself until the Gardiners were returned from church; all having agreed that it was too soon for Elizabeth to appear in public. Glancing once more to the mantle clock, she was quite disappointed to find that they were only just past eleven o’clock, and taking up her embroidery once more, she attempted to pass the time more quickly by engaging her hands in the making of new handkerchiefs, replacing those stolen upon her arrival in London.

During this time, she also continued to quietly reflect upon the decisions which had been reached between Aunt and Uncle Gardiner and herself. Since their initial conversation concerning Jane three days prior, further discussions had continued to dissect the issue at hand, allowing for the filling of voids in their story which could all too easily lead to the exposure of their deception.

However, with each passing day and Jane’s visit drawing closer, Elizabeth had grown increasingly distressed at the idea of so blatantly lying to her closest sister, and indeed dearest friend. Engaged in an increasingly fierce battle with her conscience, she had repeatedly questioned her decision to hide the truth from Jane; the thought of perpetrating further deceptions against her family turning her stomach quite violently. Yet each period of doubt continued to end resolutely with a renewed determination to stand by her earlier resolve. While her aunt and uncle made it known that they would support her final decision, whatever it may be, her aunt did attempt the previous evening to once again convince her Jane would be better served by hearing the truth. But adamant then in her refusal to hear of it, she now once again questioned that determination.

The web of lies which was rapidly being spun in defense of her reputation seemed to be growing exponentially in its size and complexity with each passing day, and for Elizabeth, who had never been one prone to deception, the rote memorization of each false detail only further tormented her still innocent conscience. That was not to say she questioned the need for weaving such tales, for she undoubtedly knew they were crucial to any attempt she must make to rise above the circumstances into which she had been cast. But knowing they were not only justified but critical to her future well-being still did little to soothe the insult to her character. And to see the people she cared for so dearly and held in such high esteem be forced to also participate in such a scheme further troubled her wearied mind.

Not long after the chiming of the half hour, she was alerted to the return of the Gardiner clan as the muffled sounds of loud voices and genial laughter drifted through the closed door. Setting aside her embroidery, she rose from her seat and made her way to the entrance hall just in time to see little Eddy snatch Sophie’s doll from her arms and make for the stairs; the little girl crying out in anger before turning to her father for assistance.

“Edward Thomas Gardiner!” Her uncle bellowed, his expression one of stern reprimand despite the glimmer of humor twinkling in his eyes. Upon watching the five year old stop quickly in his tracks and turn, his head bowed in penance, he commanded, “You will return Sophie’s doll to her this instance and apologize for taking that which does not belong to you.”

Fighting to suppress her own smile, Elizabeth waited until the doll had been returned and the young boy banished to the nursery in punishment for his misbehavior before making her presence known.

“Ah, Lizzy!” Mr. Gardiner greeted, all pretense of anger at his children’s antics abandoned now that discipline had been dispensed. “I hope you were able to enjoy some peace and quiet while we were away,” he teased.

“Rather too much, I am afraid,” she responded, her smile becoming one of mischief as she teased, “I am much too accustomed to a house in chaos to find much comfort in one of silence.”

Laughing in reply, her aunt assured her such would certainly not be the case with the four Gardiner children about, then passing her pelisse off to the awaiting maid, the adults withdrew once more to the morning room as the rest of the children were escorted upstairs by the housekeeper and their nurse. Once settled, they easily fell into comfortable conversation; her aunt sharing with her the details of the mass which they had just attended while Elizabeth exhibited her progress in stitching her initials into the new handkerchiefs her aunt had provided her. And thus they passed the time until the distant ringing of a bell signaled a visitor was at the door.

At once the easy atmosphere of the morning room dissipated; each exchanging anxious glances with one another as they awaited the knock upon the door which would announce Jane’s arrival. As desperate as she had been to be reunited with Jane, now that the interview was upon them Elizabeth found herself wishing that she could be allotted a little more time before facing her sister. But even as this thought crossed her mind, the housekeeper approached, her knock answered by Mr. Gardiner who beckoned her to enter.

“Miss Jane Bennet,” she announced before stepping to the side to allow their guest to enter.

As the Gardiners rose to welcome their eldest niece, Elizabeth found her legs had suddenly grown too weak to lift her to her feet, keeping her hidden behind her aunt’s skirts as they exchanged their greetings. With her heart racing and her hands shaking, she finally succeeded after a few moments in rallying her strength, willing her body to move, and before she had even set her sights upon her sister, she heard Jane exclaim, “Lizzy!”

In a flurry of rustling skirts, the sisters rushed into each other’s embrace, holding tightly to one another as they cried out in happiness at once again being reunited. While the pain in Elizabeth’s side howled in protest, it was all too easily drowned out by the cry of joy in her breast as she basked in the embraced of her most beloved sister. Eventually they gathered themselves and pulled from their embrace, and having found Aunt Gardiner had vacated the seat beside Elizabeth on the settee, the two sisters assumed their seats beside one another, their hands clasp in a shared determination to not let go again.

“Oh Lizzy! I am so happy to see you again! I have been so very worried having not had word from you in so long!”

“I have missed you terribly!” The tears in her eyes a testament to her avowal.

“Oh, but Lizzy!” Jane exclaimed, her happy expression quickly fading into one of concern as she studied the thin and tired face of her younger sister. Feeling the shaking and weakened hold of her sister’s hand in her own, she asked, “Lizzy! Dearest, are you ill?”

The moment had arrived, and with little need for consideration, Elizabeth knew what she needed to say. “I have been unwell, yes.” Ignoring her sister’s gasp as their eyes met one more, she continued, “But I shall be well. Indeed this past week alone has rendered such improvements as to leave me in no doubt it shall only continue now that I am once again at home with my family.”

“Truly Lizzy?” At her sister’s nod, she grasped her hand closer and enquired, “Pray Lizzy, what has brought you such illness?”

Allowing her reason and conscience an equal share in guiding her confession, she drew a deep breath and began her tale. “Mrs. Dartmouth had no children. I was never to be a governess.” Despite Jane’s gasp, she refused to be diverted from her purpose and continued, “She was a woman of a cruel and violent disposition, and I have labored under conditions this month past of such abhorrence I cannot truly convey.” Seeing the tears beginning to pool within her sister’s eyes, she struggled to continue, but continue she knew she must. “I was put into service belowstairs, washing linens and assisting in the kitchens, with little food and even less rest. Such were the conditions which have rendered me so sickly in appearance. But worry not, dear Jane, for the physician says I shall most certainly recover. With the assistance of Aunt and Uncle Gardiner, I shall be restored to my prior self erelong.” The small smile upon her lips an attempt to add further reassurance to her words.

There. For it was not the full truth, but nor was it a complete lie. While her conscience did not seem overly appeased by a game of such semantics, it was what would have to pass for now, and in silence she watched as Jane struggled to comprehend all she had been told.

“But… but, I do not understand. Why would she seek to employ a governess when she had no children? And to then treat you so poorly?! Oh Lizzy, pray tell me it cannot be true!”

The confusion and despair in Jane’s eyes finally becoming too much for Elizabeth to bear, she dropped her eyes to their hands, still clasped tightly upon the cushion between them. “I so very dearly wish I could avow as much, but alas I cannot.” Rallying her courage once more, she returned her gaze to Jane and smiled gently, hoping to reassure her sister that despite the hardships under which she had suffered, all would be well. Twas a reassurance she so desperately wished to believe as well.

“And this was why we had no word from you since September?”

As Elizabeth nodded, she explained, “Aye, I was not allowed to write to my family, to allow them to know the truth of the circumstances under which I have been laboring.”

“Were you not free to leave? Would she not allow you?” Then gasping and dropping her voice to a mere whisper, almost as if she feared the culprit to be lurking in the shadows of that very morning room, able to overhear their conversation, she asked, “Did you escape?”

Finding Jane’s manner almost comical with her wide, curious eyes and mouse-like wisp of a voice, her smile grew from one of reassurance to one of genuine amusement. With her mouth answering before her mind could check her tongue, she responded, “A friend freed me.”

As soon as the words had passed from her lips, she felt her skin flush and her smile drop. From where had that answer come?! And just like that, in the blink of an eye, three days of planning and carefully constructing the tale surrounding her return to London had turned to dust, carried away upon the gentle breeze floating through the open window.

“What friend?”

Caught in the trap set by her own thoughtlessness, she turned her eyes to her aunt in despair, begging for assistance in fixing that which she had wrought with just four little words. “Uh…. Um…. W-well….”

“An old acquaintance of ours who used to reside here in Town.” At once, three pairs of eyes turned quickly to Mr. Gardiner.

“From London?” Jane asked, her brow knitted in puzzlement as she sifted through her memories for any mention of such a person.

Finding her voice, Elizabeth quickly took up the tale once more, hoping to dissuade any further questions from being raised. “Yes, they were visiting Mrs. Dartmouth and happened to catch sight of me as I was… tending my duties.” Dropping her eyes briefly to their hands once more, she struggled to push from her mind the true vulgarity behind such words. “Knowing there must surely be some great misunderstanding, they found the time to speak with me privately and I confessed all that had occurred. The very next day, they assisted in freeing me, providing me with transport and contacting Uncle.”

Deciding it would be best to further divert Jane from inquiring after Elizabeth’s friend, Mrs. Gardiner chose at this point to interject, adding, “And so the arrangements were made for Lizzy to be brought here as soon as may be, and we are so very happy to once again have you with us, my dear.”

Smiling to her aunt in great appreciation, Elizabeth expressed her gratitude once more for their generous hospitality in taking her in upon such short notice.

“Oh! Mama shall be so happy to hear that you are well and here in London!”

The tension in the room returned immediately as all three in possession of the truth scrambled to respond to Jane’s declaration.

“Oh no, Jane!” Mr. Gardiner’s voice rose above the others to capture her attention. “Uh, we have not yet decided how best to approach your mother with… well, with all of this.” Watching as her brows furled in confusion, he continued gently, “You know how prone she is to fits, and given all she has endured over these last six months, we would not wish to worry her with information such as this, nor further agitate her concerns about supporting you five girls.”

Each held their breath as they watched Jane deliberate on such a proposal. At first, she most certainly did not appear convinced as to the wisdom of keeping such a large secret from their mother. But upon each successive review, she appeared to give it far greater consideration until finally asking, “But she is already growing increasingly distressed at having not received a letter from Lizzy since her departure for Newcastle. Would not telling her that Lizzy is safe and well here in London only relieve her concerns?”

In quiet desperation, each exchanged anxious looks once more, struggling to find an answer to what they must surely admit was a perfectly reasonable supposition. As Elizabeth’s conscience wished to cry out, “But Mr. Collins knew!,” her mind had no desire to try to explain such a declaration, as it would be impossible to do so without raising Jane’s concerns for the welfare of her mother and younger sisters who still relied upon that man’s good graces.

In her want for another solution, she eventually sputtered, “We hope to secure another position for me soon, so as not to worry her too much longer on either score.”

Feeling her aunt and uncle’s eyes upon her at once, she chose to ignore their probing stares and instead returned her full attention to Jane, and in doing so more fully commanded her focus while the Gardiner’s gathered themselves.

“But Lizzy! You are so unwell! Do you truly think it wise to search for another position so soon?”

“I shall be well soon enough, I promise you, Jane.” Again smiling gently in her attempt to reassure her sister, she declared that she had exhausted her tolerance for such droll conversation and inquired after Jane’s well-being, as they had not been in one another’s company these two months past.

Eliciting a smile at such an obvious reference to Lydia, Jane watched Elizabeth in silence for a few moments more before deciding that perhaps, after being away from one another so long, she would much rather enjoy her sister’s company.

“I am well. The children are a true delight, and I must confess to being quite content in my employment with Lady Daventry.” As the words fell unthinkingly from her lips, Jane seemed to realize how such a confession, given all she had just learned of her sister’s suffering, must surely be a cause of great pain. When she attempted to apologize to Elizabeth for her careless words, she found them readily brushed aside as her sister pleaded for her not to think upon it any longer. Then being encouraged to continue, they passed the time until lunch with stories of her charges’ antics and her daily routine as a governess to three young children.

Once called to dine and settled about the table for lunch, Elizabeth then implored her sister to tell her all she knew of the happenings at Longbourn.

“Mama has been spending much of her time visiting with our Aunt Philips and writes often of the assistance she has been providing Mrs. Collins in learning the management of Longbourn.”

“Poor Charlotte!” Elizabeth exclaimed, thinking upon the battle of wills she had witnessed daily between the current and former mistresses of the estate. While Charlotte had initially been gracious in having her performance as mistress continually critiqued, time and proximity had slowly deteriorated even Charlotte’s generous nature, leading to several tense confrontations between the two women. The dispute between them often leading to tensions among all of Longbourn’s residents. “I find it very surprising indeed that they have not yet managed to run each other out of the house!”

“Lizzy!” Jane scolded, although the slight tugging at the corner of her lips revealed her quiet amusement at her sister’s jest. “They both care so very deeply for our home and our family.”

Elizabeth’s smile faded as she pondered her sister’s words. In her darkest moments of despair and anger, she had been driven so low as to even question Charlotte’s place in the scheme against her, wondering if her friend had been aware of that which her husband was planning. Or, as she was in regards to so many of her husband’s failings, had she simply chosen to remain in denial about the character of the man to whom she was married? While never able to arrive at a satisfactory conclusion, these questions did continue to haunt her at times.

“Lizzy?”

Realizing she had once again retreated into her thoughts, Elizabeth returned her attention to the table and inquired after their sisters.

“Little has changed from when we were last at home. Mary continues to practice each day upon the pianoforte and has applied herself quite diligently to reading the sermons and books which Mr. Collins brought with him.” Pausing briefly to hide her smile at the rolling of Elizabeth’s eyes, she then continued, “Kitty and Lydia are much the same as well. Poor Lydia so dearly misses the company of the officers, and I fear she continues to lament her disappointment at not being allowed to travel to Brighton with Mrs. Foster.”

“Oh of that I have no doubt, Jane. However, allowing her to do so while the family was in mourning would have been scandalous and disrespectful to Papa’s memory. No, it was in everyone’s best interest, I believe, that she remained at home.” With a twinkle in her eye, she then added, “I am sure with the holidays soon approaching, she will find many new and exciting diversions with which to fill her time.”

Choosing to overlook the underlying mischievousness of her sister’s comment, Jane turned her attention to her aunt and uncle, sharing with them the contents of her mother’s latest letter. “Mama has written to me to ask if it may be possible for the family to come to London for the holidays, and perhaps enjoy some part of the Season?”

“Yes, she made a similar request in the letter I received from her this past week,” Aunt Madeline responded.

“I believe it to be too early to make such arrangements, my dear,” Uncle Edward interjected. “While I certainly would enjoy having the family together again for the Christmas holidays, I cannot be certain yet as to what my business dealings shall be requiring of me at the time. Perhaps we can revisit this proposal once we are closer to the season?”

With all three ladies nodding in agreement, the conversation was then turned once more to home. And so the visit with Jane continued well into the evening, filled with more stories of the Daventry children’s larks and news from Hertfordshire. Never again that night was the topic of Elizabeth’s time away from Longbourn raised, although she did not fail to notice at times that Jane had fallen silent, seemingly lost in her thoughts. While she was saved from having to provide further answers that day, she harbored no false hope that this would be the extent of their discussion on the matter. She was certain her sister would arrive on Sunday next with a slew of questions requiring more answers and further explanations.

After seeing Jane to the door and sharing several prolonged embraces as they made their good-byes, Elizabeth retreated to her chamber. Hoping the Gardiners understood her need for solitude at that moment, she vowed to apologize in the morning for abandoning them so, and closing the chamber door behind her, she made her way to the bed, flopping ungracefully upon her back. Stretched across the width of it, she allowed her tired body to sink heavily into the soft mattress beneath her before drawing her hands to her face. Rubbing the heels of her hands into her eyes, she attempted to erase from her memory the look upon Jane’s face as she had listened in distress to Elizabeth’s story. For it was that very sight which she had so desperately wished to avoid when first deciding to keep the truth from her sister. Alas, she had not succeeded in sparing her dear Jane from despair, but she knew that even what she had witnessed today would not have compared with what she would have seen had she been completely honest.

Moving her fingers to her temples, she then began to massage at the ache in her head. Yes, there would indeed be more questions when next she saw Jane, but at least her conscience had quieted enough to allow her some measure of peace. No, she had not told the truth. But no, she also had not told an absolute lie either.

*****PnP*****

The following morning found Elizabeth once again diligently at work in the morning room, stitching her initials into another of the handkerchiefs purchased for her by Mrs. Gardiner. Despite the bleariness in her eyes, the result of finding little sleep the night before, she was content in her labor as it afforded her further time and solitude to reflect upon her visit with Jane.

To be able to confirm with her own eyes that Jane was well and content in her employment to Lord and Lady Daventry had brought a great sense of relief to Elizabeth’s anxious heart. She too had suffered from worry during the five weeks of silence between the sisters, concerned that Jane had also been cast into a world so dark as her own. With Jane being the first to have attained a position as a governess, she had left the safety and comfort of Longbourn the month prior to Elizabeth’s own departure. In that time, only one letter had been received from her sister, confirming her safe arrival in London and apparent pleasure at finding her new situation to be very tolerable indeed, before she too had embarked upon her own journey into employment. The fear that such had not continued to be the case had troubled Elizabeth greatly, especially so upon discovering that Madame Amelia was aware of her sister’s presence in town.

However, it was not only concerns for Jane which had tormented her so during the darkest of hours. She had also been greatly concerned for her mother and sisters still residing at Longbourn, fearing that one of the younger girls would soon be the next to be sent off under the guise of employment, only to be met with similar circumstances. Hearing that all was well with the rest of the family had done much to ease her anxiety, but for how long would that remain the case?

Soon though, her thoughts returned once more to their discussion of her circumstances and the explanations which had been provided in an attempt to protect Elizabeth’s reputation, as well as Jane’s sensibilities. She immediately found herself blushing, embarrassed still by her slip of the tongue which gave reference to Mr. Darcy’s participation in her rescue. While she had not yet determined how she would best address the issue, she was confident that an answer would be devise by the time the saw Jane on Sunday next.

The distant sound of the door bell ringing startled Elizabeth, pulling her from her thoughts as she looked up from her embroidery. Concerned she had lost track of time and would be seen by one of her aunt’s morning callers, she glanced to the mantle clock expecting to find the visiting hour upon them. However, she was to be left with only further confusion as the clock revealed it to be no later than five past ten. Rising from the settee regardless, she began to make her way towards the door, knowing it would be wise to quickly remove herself from the morning room lest the visitor was indeed here to call upon her aunt. But her attempted flight was halted by the sound of footsteps approaching moments before the handle turned and the door swung open.

“Mr. Darcy of Derbyshire for you, Miss,” Mrs. Morris announced.

Feeling her chest tightening and her heart beating rapidly, Elizabeth became rooted at once to the carpet beneath her feet, unable to continue in her flight nor retreat to the settee. With her eyes wide in disbelief and her lips parted as she struggled for breath, she watched in stunned silence as the gentleman entered the room and bowed respectfully in greeting.

“Mrs. Gardiner shall be down directly, Sir,” Mrs. Morris continued; her demeanor betraying not at all her intense curiosity, as well as confusion, over the unexpected arrival of a gentleman at such an early hour. Then curtseying and removing herself from the room to fetch Mrs. Gardiner, she closed the door quietly behind her.

In silence they stared at one another, waiting as Elizabeth struggled to gather herself enough to return his greeting and invite him to sit. After what seemed an eternity in the tense stillness of the room, she finally managed to bob briefly in curtsey and welcome him, “Good day, Mr. Darcy.”

Willing her legs to move once more, she was at last able to return to her place upon the settee and watched in quiet apprehension as he settled into the chair across from her.

“Pray, allow me to apologize for calling so early, Miss Bennet. I hope I am not interrupting your work,” he offered, nodding to the sewing basket resting beside her on the table.

“No, tis no trouble, Sir.”

Again they fell into silence; she casting her eyes to her hands, which were now folded restlessly upon her lap; he observing her closely as she struggled for something to say. Despite years of training in proper conversation and social grace, she had consistently found conversations with Mr. Darcy to be exceedingly troublesome. Between the gentleman’s penchant for silence and hers for teasing, any attempts at polite conversation in the past had always ultimately, and quickly, devolved into an exchange of stony glares and sharp barbs. In truth, the lady knew no other way of interacting with the taciturn gentleman.

But with a history such as theirs, especially in light of their more recent encounters, she now believed polite conversation to be completely impossible! For she could not find one avenue of conversation of which they may pursue which did not contain the potential for further embarrassment for either party. To inquire after the well-being of his family, with whom few she was acquainted, would make reference to their time at Rosings, spent in the company of his aunt and cousins. Such recollections, however, could not fail to bring to mind memories of their own time together, ending with the disastrous scene at the Parsonage. Questions pertaining to their only other shared acquaintances, Mr. Bingley and his sisters, would also lead them once more to Hunsford, and even more embarrassingly, to the letter he had delivered to her the following morning.

She even felt as if inquiring after his own well-being now seemed too personal a question to ask, for surely it would compel him to return the inquiry and a discussion of how her health was recovering after her harrowing experience in London. She was even too ill-qualified at the moment to broach the topic of their current weather, as she had barely set foot out of doors since September, and then it was only as she was being escorted from one residence to another.

“This seems a very comfortable house,” Mr. Darcy suddenly proffered, shifting slightly in his seat as she raised her eyes to him once more. “Have Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner lived long in this part of town?”

“Yes, my uncle purchased the home not long after inheriting his business.”

“Oh, twas your grandfather’s business originally?”

Surprised to detect a sense of genuine interest in his tone, she smiled in relief that they may have found a safe topic on which to converse. “No, twas my aunt’s father from whom he inherited. Uncle Edward had worked for him as a young clerk and quite impressed him with his keen sense for business. My aunt tells me her father was very happy indeed when Uncle Edward asked for her hand in marriage, as she believes he had already decided to pass the business on to him upon his passing.”

“Has your aunt no brothers to whom the business may have been transferred?”

“No, she has but two sisters, neither of whom had married at the time of their father’s passing.”

Nodding in understanding, he seemed to think for a few moments on her answer before inquiring, “And am I correct in supposing that his work for her father is how they came to know one another?”

Nodding in response, Elizabeth subtly glanced to the door, wondering what was taking her aunt so long. But unwilling to allow the conversation to lull and the uncomfortable silence to return once more, she continued lightly, “Yes, for who would have thought that a warehouse could be the source of such happiness in both marriage and business!”

She was then surprised to once again see the gentleman smile and was struck quite unexpectedly by the realization that she had seen him smile more in the past week than she had in the entirety of their time together in both Hertfordshire and Kent. And to describe the sight as anything but pleasant would be a great falsehood indeed!

“He is in the import business, I understand.”

Drawn once more from her quiet study of the gentleman, she nodded gently while trying to ignore the slight flush she could feel spreading upon her cheeks. “Aye, he does much business with companies in the colonies, particularly in India and the East Indies I believe.”

“Ah, a rather advantageous trade to be in, indeed!”

“Very much so,” she agreed, a wide smile lightening her countenance as she jested, “My aunt shall never again want for tea, that is to be certain.”

The sound of Mr. Darcy chuckling in response helped to ease some of her apprehension at being once more in the gentleman’s company, but her curiosity over the unexpectedness of his visit however had not diminished and was only growing more so with each passing minute. But being unable to ask such a question, lest she appear rude to her guest, she instead continued the conversation by adding, “And Jane and I’s favorite part of every visit to London has been having the opportunity to browse about the warehouse in search of fabrics for new gowns.”

Again the deep rumble of laughter filled the room, and with a smile as large as it was candid, he said, “I have no doubt my sister would find great pleasure in such an opportunity as well.”

“But of course, for how could she not! Towers of crates stacked one upon another, stretching high towards the heavens; each filled with miles and miles of silks and brocades colored in every shade known to mankind!”

Again the gentleman laughed, as entertained by her playful teases as she was. But as their mirth abated, she was caught unawares by the curious gaze with which he was now studying her, and while she could not even begin to speculate as to what thoughts were secreted away in his mind at that moment, she found it to be not nearly as disconcerting as she would have expected. However her curiosity was to be disappointed as at that moment the door to the morning room opened once more and her aunt entered, joining their tête-a-tête. Both Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy rose to their feet as the introductions were made. “Mr. Darcy, allow me to introduce my aunt, Mrs. Gardiner.”

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Gardiner.”

“And yours as well, Mr. Darcy.”

As they then assumed their seats, Elizabeth could not help noticing the pallor of her aunt’s complexion and quickly grew concerned. Before she could inquire after her aunt’s well-being, however, the lady turned her attention to their guest, who was once again apologizing for disturbing them so early in the day.

“Pray, forgive my intrusion upon your time, Mrs. Gardiner. Given the nature of my visit, I thought it best to avoid our conversation being interrupted or overheard by other callers you may receive.”

Turning once more to the gentleman, Elizabeth was confused, and in truth rather disappointed, to find the cold and stoic Mr. Darcy with whom she was so well acquainted had once again returned; all signs of the merriment they had enjoyed but moments early now gone. With an expression of blank indifference now marking his countenance, he reached into his breast pocket and withdrew what appeared to be a letter. “My personal physician, Mr. Hodgson, had requested the opportunity to meet with Miss Bennet after a se’nnight. Yesterday I received this note from him, seeking to confirm an appointment for tomorrow. I had mentioned such to Mr. Gardiner when we met this past week, but we had not the opportunity to settle upon the matter.”

“I must regret to inform you, Sir, that my husband has already departed for his office. However, I am sure he would be in agreement that we would wish to honor the appointment.”

“Of course. I did not wish to confirm as much or release to him your address without discussing the matter with you first. I shall convey to him as much, as well as the time at which he may be expected.”

“I believe it would be best if he were to arrive prior to visiting hours as Elizabeth presence with us has not yet been made known.”

Watching as the gentleman nodded in agreement, Elizabeth felt her frustration rising; in part at being so blatantly excluded from a decision which so directly involved her person, and in part at the unfriendly, business-like manner in which he was conducting it.

“I feel I must disagree,” Elizabeth declared. As they turned to her in surprise, almost as if they seemed to have forgotten her very presence in the room, she continued, “I am indeed feeling much more myself since last I saw the doctor and do not believe there is cause to warrant his visit. Pray, convey to the doctor my deepest appreciation for his assistance and news of my recovery.”

“That is very generous of you, Elizabeth, and indeed very considerate of Mr. Hodgson’s time, but I must disagree and insist upon maintaining the appointment,” Mrs. Gardiner replied.

Her tone softening as she turned to her aunt, Elizabeth smiled lovingly as she pleaded her case. “I cannot express how greatly I appreciate all of the care and consideration with which you have attended me, Aunt. But I assure you there must be little else to be gained from meeting again with Mr. Hodgson. For he said so himself all that is required is time and rest.”

Receiving a gentle smile in turn, she believed the discussion settled. However, forgetting it was her aunt and not her mother with whom she was debating, she was soon made to remember that Mrs. Gardiner was not one to be so easily dissuaded. “And the last time I heard you make that very same argument, you were forced to take to your bed for a fortnight with a rather severe cold.” Reaching over to pat her niece’s hand in a show of both care and to signal that the discussion was concluded, Mrs. Gardiner turned once more to Mr. Darcy and confirmed that they would be honoring the appointment on the morrow.

“I shall have a note delivered to Mr. Hodgson at once.”

With the business of the visit concluded, the gentleman rose from his seat and expressed his pleasure once more at making the acquaintance of Mrs. Gardiner before turning to make his farewells to Elizabeth. As he stared at her for a few moments, she struggled to decipher his thoughts, failing once more in her attempt to sketch the character of the aloof Mr. Darcy.

“Good day, Miss Bennet.” And with a bow, he made his way from the room.

“If you would not mind Elizabeth, I have a few matters I must attend to abovestairs.”

So lost as Elizabeth was in her thoughts, she failed to notice the haste with which her aunt had made her excuses nor the heightened color upon the lady’s cheeks. Assuming her seat once more, she struggled to shake free from the deep disconcertion which her visit with Mr. Darcy had left her. So genial they had been in their conversation, she was at a loss as to how quickly his demeanor had changed or to what had caused such a shift. It certainly could not have been the arrival of her aunt which would render such an alteration, could it? No. No, there had certainly been some shift already occurring just prior to her arrival, calling to mind the curious gaze under which she had been sitting mere moments before the door had opened.

Suddenly, the sound of the door opening once again pulled her to her feet, and expecting to be met with one of the Gardiners, she once more turned towards the door.

“Mr. Darcy!”

For indeed there the gentleman stood once more upon the threshold; the brim of his beaver clutched tightly in his hands as he made a quick bow. “My apologies for intruding upon your solitude once more, Miss Bennet. I realized I had forgotten the other matter which I had wished to discuss.”

An eyebrow raised in interest, she gestured once more towards the armchair in which he had recently been resting. But ignoring her invitation, he quickly came to the matter in question.

“Miss Bennet, will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance?”

Gaping in her shock, she opened and closed her mouth several times as she tried to formulate a response. But once again the focus of an intense and pleading stare, one begging for her consent to his request, she found herself unable to gather her thoughts. And lost as to how to respond, she could do naught but nod her head vaguely and whispered, “Of course. It would be an honor to make Miss Darcy’s acquaintance.”

“I thank you, Miss Bennet.”

With another bow, he retreat once more from the room, leaving a dazed Elizabeth Bennet in his wake. For several long minutes, she stood dumbfounded in the middle of the room, staring blankly at the door through which he had appeared; her mind so overcome with confusion that she could not find the power to move herself from the spot.

What in the world had just occurred?


	19. Chapter 19

_Mr. Darcy could feel his heart beginning to race, his breath catching and his ears ringing as he observed the subtle hints of pink spreading upon her cheeks. Having been caught in her quiet study of him, she dropped her eyes briefly, a show of modesty which he was certain was done quite unconsciously. Mesmerized, he watched as a stray wisp of hair floated before her eyes, stirred by the gentle breeze drifting through the nearby window; the morning light streaming in behind her causing her to positively glow as she sat before him. And all at once, his heart seemed to stop beating completely as she once again returned her eyes to his-_

“Brother?”

Startled from his reverie, Mr. Darcy’s head snapped to attention, directing his concentration to the now concerned face of his sister sitting beside him. Quietly clearing his throat, he dabbed absently at his mouth with his napkin before begging her pardon for his inattentiveness.

“You seemed very far away just now. Are you unwell?”

“No, all is well. I do apologize.” Returning his focus once more to the lamb roast resting before him, he offered the only explanation he could think to give, “I have this week past been struggling with a decision concerning a new investment opportunity. I fear it has at times left me quite distracted. Pray, forgive my neglect; you were saying?”

How likely she was to believe such a tale he could not estimate, but as she gazed concernedly at him for only another moment or two before resuming their discussion, he was left to surmise that it had succeeded in at least preventing any further questions.

“I was wondering if you believe it may be possible to return to Pemberley for Christmastime. I understand, of course, the importance of my remaining in town this Season and attending the various soirees you and Aunt Rebecca have planned for my benefit, and I do not wish to spoil that which you both have worked so diligently to arrange. But I do so love being home for the holidays.”

As she pleaded her case, he had to admit that the idea held great appeal for him as well. Never one to enjoy Society, especially the Season and the many obligations it entailed, the thought of spending the Christmas holidays in Derbyshire was a far more pleasurable prospect than that of Town. However, the importance of using this Season to acclimate Georgiana to the flow and temperament of Society ahead of her debut far outweighed his desire to return to the calm and comfortable surroundings of Pemberley.

“While I certainly understand your wish to return to Pemberley, dearest, I fear it is simply not possible this year.” With a heavy heart, he observed her expression closely as it was first overcome with disappointment before soon settling into one of quiet resignation.

“I understand, Brother. Perhaps next year.” And with that, silence settled over the dinner table; each of the Darcy siblings becoming increasingly lost to their own private thoughts.

As the last of the dishes were cleared from the table and Mr. and Miss Darcy rose from their chairs, he offered his arm and with a gentle smile asked if she would consider playing for him for a short while. Receiving her agreement in return, he then escorted her to the pianoforte in the music room before assuming his usual place upon the settee. And, as the dulcet tones of a Bach cantata filled the room about him, he soon found his thoughts once more drawn to his visit to Gracechurch Street that very morning.

_“But of course, for how could she not! Towers of crates stacked one upon another, stretching high towards the heavens; each filled with miles and miles of silks and brocades colored in every shade known to mankind!”_

_It was impossible to contain his amusement at her playfulness; the tease in her tone and the mischief in her eyes far too tempting to resist. As she too laughed along with him, he was once more taken by the sight before him. Upon her lips a wide and happy smile, her eyes shining with mirth, and her person once again alive with that very essence of Elizabeth Bennet, that unidentifiable yet undeniable spirit that could exist in no other but her. As he gazed upon her smiling countenance, he could feel his own smile still lingering upon his lips. What a marvelous creature indeed!_

_Suddenly, the sound of a door opening announced the arrival of another, cutting through the haze and returning him once more to the true purpose behind his visit. Without conscious thought, his well-tailored mask of indifference slipped into place, and rising to his feet, he turned to greet Mrs. Gardiner. Now forced to remember the unpleasant business which had brought him to Gracechurch Street that morning, he could no longer ignore the weight of the doctor’s letter resting heavily within his breast pocket._

_As the introductions were made and the business at hand addressed, he felt keenly the loss of their easy rapport, and once more the full reality of their situation settled upon him. For he had arrived that morning knowing with certainty that this would be the last he would ever see of Miss Elizabeth Bennet. Finally made to admit that there remained no other opportunities to see her, no further justifications which could excuse his seeking her out, he had entered the morning room in full acceptance of this finality._

_But as he sat there listening to Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth debate the necessity of Mr. Hodgson’s visit, he found himself desperately searching for another prospect, another reason which would allow him yet one more chance to see her. Though a futile exercise in practice, it was all he had to cleave to at the moment._

_“We shall indeed honor the appointment tomorrow, Mr. Darcy.”_

_“I shall have a note delivered to Mr. Hodgson at once.” And with those words, he found himself rising to his feet and making his good-byes to Mrs. Gardiner._

_As he turned one last time to Elizabeth, his voice seemed to fail him, unwilling to utter the final farewell which would mark his exit from her life. Gazing upon her, he worked to commit to memory every detail of this moment; the glow of her hair in the morning light, the light flush upon her cheeks, and the clear, brilliant eyes observing him so closely._

_Finally with a bow, he pulled himself from her presence and made his way numbly towards the entrance of the Gardiner townhouse. His heart pounding and his breath short, he donned his great coat and retrieved his beaver from the attentive housekeeper, and though promising himself he would not, glanced once more towards the hallway leading back to the morning room._

_Unexpectedly catching sight of Mrs. Gardiner leaving that very same room, he watched curiously as she made her way towards the stairs and climbed them far more quickly than he would have expected from a woman who had appeared to him as all that was proper and graceful. As she disappeared from the landing above, he was struck by the realization that Elizabeth was once more alone, and overcome by his need to see her, he found himself quickly approaching the morning room door before he had even noticed he had taken a step. Uncertain of what he would say and unwilling to question the wisdom of such actions, he opened the door and sought her out once more._

_“Miss Benet, will you allow me, or do I ask too much, to introduce my sister to your acquaintance?”_

“Would you prefer a selection from Hayden?”

“Hmm?”

Now it was with curious interest, as opposed to concern, that Georgiana Darcy examined her brother. For it was very unlike the gentleman to be so distracted, especially when spending an evening in the music room, listening to her play his favorite pieces. “I was inquiring after your preference for my next selection.” Pausing for another moment longer, she then asked, “Is it your business decision which has you distracted so again?”

Shifting slightly in his seat, he allowed his gaze to drift from his sister to the portrait of their grandmother hanging above the mantelpiece, unable to look upon her as he deceived her so. “Yes, I find it a very difficult one to make, but one which must be decided before long.”

“What about it troubles you so? Is the risk so very great?”

With a sigh, he nodded. “The risk is very high indeed; the consequences of a poor decision quite serious.”

“And the return worth the risks it entails?”

Quite unexpectedly, the slightest of smiles touched his lips, lightening his disposition considerably as he was struck by the unintended, yet very real implications of her innocent questions. “Yes, they most certainly are.”

He then watched as she returned her attention to the instrument before her; her fingers resuming their graceful dance along the ivory keys. But as he observed her more closely, he could discern that her eyes were not focused on the sheet music before her. Her expression having settled into one of deep contemplation, it soon became apparent she was considering the impasse at which her brother was now standing.

“Pray, do not worry yourself so, Georgiana. Tis a matter for which you need not be concerned.” As she looked to him again, he attempted to reassure her with a gentle smile before then requesting she play another cantata.

Several hours later, Fitzwilliam Darcy was pleased to at last settle into the comfort of his favorite armchair, placed before the hearth in his bedchamber. While the disquiet from the day had by no means dissipated over the course of his evening, he was relieved to have avoided any further discussions with his sister about that which troubled him. For although the matter that distracted him so did greatly concern Georgiana, discussion of such with her was quite impossible.

The impulsiveness and irresponsibility of his actions had plagued him relentlessly since leaving Gracechurch Street that morning. At times, his sense of duty and honor to his family, his name, and most importantly, his sister had berated him for even considering, however briefly, to foster a relationship between themselves and a fallen woman. Having barely avoided the scandal which would have surrounded Georgiana’s elopement, it was inconceivable that he would consider introducing her to a woman whose own reputation rested precariously upon the edge. Especially as she was a young girl not yet out and who was in the final preparations for her debut.

But just as quickly, his heart had parried, declaring such thoughts unfair to Elizabeth, a young woman unwittingly finding herself the target of a nefarious scheme, one designed to ruin her forever. She had not willingly nor wantonly chosen a path of such ruin. And indeed, he had been assured she remained innocent yet, despite her cousin’s attempts to render her otherwise.

But above all these arguments, as the debate had raged within him, two simple truths had risen above them all. He knew, without question, her care and compassion would greatly benefit his shy, anxious sister. Long bereft of female companionship, he had not been blind to that which was missing from Georgiana’s life. While she knew of compassion from the women among their staff, who had raised the young girl after her mother’s death, such could not compare with the sisterly bonds he had witness among the Bennet sisters. To make the acquaintance of woman who was neither employed to care for her, nor one meticulously fostering a friendship in hopes catching the eye of her wealthy brother, would do a world of good for Georgiana’s confidence and happiness.

But it was not just for Georgiana’s benefit that he considered this introduction. For the second truth he could not pretend to deny was his own selfish wish to maintain a connection to Elizabeth Bennet. It was the very thought of seeing her for the final time which had driven him to behave so impulsively in the first place. To foster a friendship between these two women would create countless opportunities to enjoy the company of his sister’s friend. And while the thought of behaving so carelessly, to open his sister so unwittingly to scandal repulsed him, he could not in good conscience deny that it was part of what motivated him to even consider following through on his request.

The loud popping of wood in the fire drew him from his thoughts. Discovering the flames to be dwindling, he rose from his chair to place a few more logs on the embers and busied himself with coaxing the flames to once again flare up, holding at bay for at least a small while longer the chill of a late October night.

*****PnP*****

“Darcy!”

Closing the ledger sitting open before him, Mr. Darcy rose from his desk and extended his hand in greeting to his good friend Mr. Bingley. Initially surprised when Mr. Hawkins had knocked upon his study door, announcing the arrival of the master’s long-time friend, he had to admit to being rather pleased at Charles’ unannounced return. Having parted ways in the early days of September, Mr. Bingley and his sisters traveling to Scarborough to visit relatives and he returning to London to attend to business, the two had only shared an occasional letter or two during the course of their separation.

“Charles, this is a rather unexpected surprise. I did not believe you to be returning to Town for another fortnight at the earliest.”

“Yes, that was indeed our intention when we departed Pemberley, but my sisters grew impatient to return to Town ahead of the Season.”

Moving to the cabinet beside his desk, Mr. Darcy lifted the decanter of brandy in silent question, and receiving an enthusiastic nod from Mr. Bingley, poured two glasses before returning to his desk. Once both gentleman were settled into their usual places and a toast exchanged, Mr. Darcy inquired after his friend’s time in the north.

“It was a most extraordinary visit! For not only did we have the pleasure of our aunt and uncle’s company, but our cousin and her friend as well!” Ignoring the raised eyebrow he received from Darcy in response, Bingley continued undaunted, “A lovely young lady with whom Cousin Patrice has spent her summer visiting. Our luck was so that we all arrived in Scarborough not more than two days apart.”

“And does this young lady have a name?”

“Oh, terribly sorry! Miss Josceline Wyndham. I believe you may know of the family? The Wyndhams of Newcastle?”

Studying his friend closely for a few moments, Mr. Darcy sighed quietly. The deep flush spreading from his collar to the tips of his ears, the rapid, excited manner of his speech, and the unconscious worrying of his tailcoat buttons; all the tell-tale signs of Charles Bingley in love. Again.

“I am familiar with the family by way of reputation of course, but I cannot claim an acquaintance.”

“They are a family of great standing in Newcastle, of course, but I knew little of them myself until I had the very great pleasure of meeting Miss Wyndham. If the family is as lovely and generous as she, I believe I will be very fortunate to claim them among my friends.”

With another sigh, Mr. Darcy resisted the impulse to roll his eyes in response to such a declaration, especially as this was a scene which he knew all too well, having born witness to it far too many times before. At least Charles had not yet declared her an angel and deemed her to be all that is fair and sweet in the world.

“As our departure from Scarborough approached, Cousin Patrice declared it to be a very great shame that we should all be parting ways, especially as we all got on so nicely and enjoyed our time together exceedingly. So, Miss Wyndham invited Cousin Patrice to return to Town with her and stay with her family through the holidays, to which Aunt and Uncle happily agreed. They traveled with us as we were all bound for London, and I must say it made the long journey with Caroline and Louisa quite tolerable indeed!”

Again Mr. Darcy remained silent as his friend took a deep breath, patiently awaiting the point to Charles’ tale. For such a ramble was most certainly leading to something.

“When we arrived and delivered Miss Wyndham to her parents, they most graciously extended an invitation to dinner on Saturday. And as Miss Wyndham is familiar with our close acquaintance with you and Miss Darcy, she wished me to extend the invitation to you and your sister as well.”

There it was.

Before Mr. Darcy could respond, Charles continued, “It will be a small party, just the Wyndhams, Caroline, the Hurts, and Cousin Patrice.”

“Charles-“

“Oh, do say you will join us, Darcy! It has been so very long since last we were all together.” Pausing briefly, he appeared to struggle with the decision to say more. But after a few moments, his voice softer yet urgent, he said, “I should very much like for you to meet Miss Wyndham.”

As he listened to Bingley’s quiet plea, he could do naught but recognize the situation for what it truly was: a desire to introduce the young lady to his friend for approval. Why Charles continued to seek his counsel on such matters he could not comprehend, given that his response was to always steer the young man away from attaching himself to the fortune-seeking ladies of the Ton. And while in the past Darcy had felt right and just in his interpretation of those ladies’ intent, now he could no longer objectively counsel his friend in these matters. Knowing how wrongly he had steered Bingley away from the true affections of Miss Bennet, while he had so blindly pursued a woman who bore no inclination towards him whatsoever, he no longer believed himself capable of advising anyone on such matters.

But the beseeching expression upon Bingley’s face finally forced him to relent. “I cannot accept for Georgiana; I shall have to discuss the matter with her first.” Pausing as he watched Charles’ expression lighten in understanding, he sighed quietly once more before answering, “I, however, shall be in attendance.”

“Capital!” Leaping to his feet, he grabbed for Darcy’s hand, shaking it vigorously as he expressed his appreciation and asked if he should wait until receiving word of Georgiana’s decision before notifying the Wyndhams.

“Yes, I shall speak with her today and should be able to send word of her decision by tomorrow at the latest.”

“I shall eagerly await her response! I am certain Miss Wyndham, as well as Cousin Patrice, shall be most pleased to hear you will be joining us.”

*****PnP*****

As the Darcy carriage rolled along the cobbled lanes of London, splashing through the puddles of rain which had collected over the course of the day, Georgiana inquired after the family with whom she would be spending the evening. Having initially been hesitant to accept an invitation to dine with a family to whom she had no prior acquaintance, she had required gentle prodding from both her brother and Mrs. Annesley to convince her to join them, claiming it would be good practice at making new acquaintances while in the company of family and friends.

“I know them only by way of reputation, but I have been given to understand the family to be all that is proper in manner and poise. I believe they are usually to be found in Town during the Season and have held many successful balls and other such gatherings over the years.”

“But none which you have attended?”

Shaking his head briefly in response, he explained, “Such are not to my taste, as you know. I prefer to keep to engagements held by those with whom I am acquainted.” Then his expression settled into one of more serious consideration as he spoke firmly, yet caringly, “One must always be careful of not only the company they keep, but in whose company they may unwittingly find themselves. I have made it my habit to only accept invitations from those among my circle whom I can trust to be as selective as I in the company they keep.”

He paused then to see if she understood the implications of his statement. As a young woman preparing for her debut, he had recognized the importance of sharing with her the strategies and lessons gained from his own time in Society, hoping to educate her on how to better protect herself and her reputation in such a scandal-driven society. Seeing her nod, he explained further. “There are those among even our own acquaintances who are upstanding, well-mannered persons and whom I am pleased to call a friend. But that does not necessarily mean that they exercise the best judgment in all of their associations. Take care as you gain new friends to discern those whose judgment you can trust and those who you cannot.”

With a nod, she assured him she understood his point in expressing such advice, but she could not fully suppress the surge of self-recrimination she experienced at the recalling of her own lapses in judgment. Turning her eyes to her lap, she once again silently reprimanded herself for the less-than-trustworthy company she had once kept, having nearly cost her family so dearly.

Seeming to read her thoughts, he begged of her, “Pray, do not believe me to be chastising you, for I assure you I had not given one thought to that… man. I simply wished to share with you insight gained through my own experiences.”

“But it is an experience of my own from which I have learned so much.” Raising her eyes to him once more, she avowed, “It shall always serve to remind me of that which my poor choices almost wrought upon our family. I shall not do so again.”

“I know, dearest. But pray, do not misunderstand my advice to you at this time. I think no longer on that summer, and I wish you not to dwell upon it either.”

As they felt the carriage slow to a halt, the conversation was dropped. It was one over which they had spent countless hours deliberating, and brought neither peace nor reassurance to either party. Descending the steps first, Mr. Darcy turned to assist his sister from the carriage before making their way to the door of an understated, yet elegant townhouse. As they were soon escorted towards the drawing room of the Wyndham residence, Mr. Darcy gave a gentle squeeze of reassurance to his sister’s hand and prepared himself for an evening spent in the company of the Bingleys and the latest object of Charles’ affections.

“Mr. Darcy and Miss Darcy.”

Upon entering the drawing room, Mr. Darcy was quick to note the light and airy feel of the space. With light blue walls topped by white crown molding, mirrors reflecting the candle light about them, and a collection of family portraits hung about the walls, the room revealed the Wyndhams to at the very least be a family of elegant tastes, suggesting that there was indeed some truth to the family’s reputation as one of refinement and grace.

“Darcy!”

Turning his attention to the drawing room’s inhabitants, he was unsurprised to find Bingley approaching swiftly, his quickness of foot a testament to the young man’s excitement at the impending introductions.

“So very happy you were able to come tonight, Darcy!” Suddenly seeming to remember his manners, he then turned quickly to Georgiana and added, “And you as well, Miss Darcy.” With bows and curtsies alike exchanged, he continued, “Come, allow me to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. Wyndham.”

Mr. Darcy had noticed the couple upon his entrance, and as they approached their hosts, who were currently rising from their seats in anticipation of their introduction, Mr. Darcy noted the fineness of the couple’s dress as well as the serene and gracious nature of their manner. While finding Mrs. Wyndham’s features and coloring unremarkable, he allowed that her husband was all that would be declared handsome in a gentleman of the First Circle.

Following their introductions, Mrs. Wyndham echoed Mr. Bingley’s sentiments, “We are so delighted you could join us this evening! We have been so looking forward to finally meeting you both.”

Mr. Darcy’s reply was all that was customary and proper, expressing his appreciation for such an invitation and warm welcome, and with a subtle squeeze of his sister’s hand, which still rested upon his arm, she too was encouraged to express her gratitude to their hostess. However, any further attempt at conversation between those assembled was quickly interrupted by the sound of a voice, as shrill as it was false, approaching quickly.

“Dear Georgiana!” Miss Bingley exclaimed as she reached for the young girl’s free arm, “How I have missed you so! I was delighted when Charles informed me that you would be joining us this evening as well!” Then turning her attention to the young girl’s brother, she continued more quietly, “And you as well, Mr. Darcy. It has been far too long since last we were in company, would you not agree?”

The change in her tone, coupled with the coquettish nature of her gaze, was a ploy the gentleman had long recognized as one of flirtation, often utilized by his friend’s sister in her attempt to capture his attention. With a quite sigh, he resigned himself to yet another Season, the fifth since their introduction, of ignoring the woman’s blatant, unbecoming flirtations and daring machinations designed to force his hand. With her cap still set firmly upon him and his most decidedly set against her, he could do naught but hum noncommittally to her declaration before returning his attention to his hosts and Bingley.

Seeming to detect the less than enthusiastic welcome from the gentleman to her guest, Mrs. Wyndham gracefully intervened, “I am to understand you are from Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy.”

“I am,” he confirmed, and as their small party settled into a pleasant discussion of the county, mostly concerning Mrs. Wyndham’s brief visits to the area over the years, he quietly observed as both of the Bingley siblings grew increasingly impatient with the conversation. Mr. Bingley, he assumed, for being eager to introduce Miss Wyndham, and Miss Bingley for not being able to monopolize his attention. Soon, it was Charles’ impatience which finally became too much to bear.

“If you would pardon us, Mrs. Wyndham, I believe Cousin Patrice has been quite eager to make the Darcys’ acquaintance as well.”

“Oh, but of course! My apologies.”

“Oh Georgiana,” Miss Bingley cried as she too moved to accompany the small party as it crossed the drawing room, “I am certain you shall come to adore Patrice as dearly as I!”

Whatever response Miss Darcy may have offered in return was quickly lost as they descended upon the two women seated beside the fire. In Mr. Bingley’s rush to make the introductions, he barely allowed them time to rise from their seats before he began, “Miss Wyndham, pray, allow me to introduce Mr. Darcy and his sister, Miss Darcy.”

Rising from his bow, Mr. Darcy caught sight of Mr. Bingley’s gaze as it lingered a little too long upon the lady standing closest to him. A handsome young woman of about nineteen or twenty years, Miss Wyndham certainly tended towards her father in her appearance. With light blonde hair and startling green eyes, her coloring and features marked her as a handsome young lady of superior birth, a classical beauty by Society’s standards.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy.”

“Aye, a very great pleasure indeed!” A voice beside her cooed. Turning his attention then to the Bingley cousin, he was struck for a moment by the striking similarities between she and Miss Bingley. Both shared the same shape and contours of their features, topped by a similar shade of auburn hair. But their similarities tended most unsettlingly towards one another in their shared air of superiority as well as the almost predatory way in which they looked upon his person.

Barely able to repress a groan, Mr. Darcy returned his attention to his friend and quietly cleared his throat, reminding Charles that he was standing amidst a group of people with whom he needed to engage.

“My apologies! Darcy, Miss Darcy, allow me to also introduce our cousin, Miss Patrice Parham.”

Thankfully, they were soon interrupted by a knock upon the door, heralding the announcement that dinner was ready. Extending his arm once more to his sister, Mr. Darcy was pleased to escort her to dinner, ensuring that he would at the very least be able to engage Georgiana in conversation during the course of what he now was certain would be a most trying evening.

*****PnP*****

Much to Mr. Darcy’s chagrin, his prediction concerning his enjoyment of the evening had thus far been proven correct. Seated beside their host at dinner, he had hoped to find the gentleman to be one of a keen mind and well-informed conversation. However, he was soon to discover that such hopes were to be sorely disappointed. Although by no means lacking in intelligence or ability, Mr. Wyndham’s interests tended towards those of Mr. Hurst, and as the conversation around him consisted primarily of debates concerning the best weapons for sport or preferences for port or brandy, he found himself contributing little to the men’s discourse throughout the course of the meal.

As his sphere of polite conversation also included the likes of Mrs. Hurst and Miss Parham, the only other exchanges to be had were those of fashion, as the two women attempted to engage his sister in declaring her preferences for shops and styles that were currently in vogue. However, despite Miss Darcy’s limited participation in the dialogue, it did little to dissuade them from spending the entirety of their dinner seeking her opinion on bonnets and gowns. And while Georgiana was by no measure one disinterested in such feminine pursuits, it was clear to her brother that the manner in which the women amused themselves, often at the expense of other ladies, was offensive to her kindly and gentle nature.

Yet, added to all this was the discomfort of finding himself the focus of countless gazes and less-than-subtle flirtations directed towards him by Miss Parham. Flirtations which had most certainly caught the attention of Miss Bingley, seated at the opposite end of the table but by no means unaware of all that was occurring several seats away. From the moment they were seated, Bingley’s cousin had begun her attempts to draw his attention, asking of him questions concerning Pemberley and his home here in London. Then utilizing lulls in the ladies’ discussions of jewelry and ball gowns, she had inquired about other properties of which he may be in possession and his preference for Town over the country. Skillfully masking her disappointment at his expressed preference for Derbyshire over London, she had remained undaunted in her attempts to gather as much information about him as possible while she had the opportunity.

Nowhere in his recent memory could Mr. Darcy find a time when he was more grateful to see the ladies rising from their seats, removing themselves to the drawing room while the gentlemen remained at the table to share a glass of port. Although he had sympathized with Georgiana as she rose slowly from her seat, now as he sat with only their host, Mr. Hurst, and Bingley, he felt at least some small measure of peace as he sipped at the very fine glass of port he had been handed.

“And where did you say you had taken a lease on an estate, Mr. Bingley?” Mr. Wyndham asked.

At once, Mr. Darcy returned his concentration to the table, looking towards Bingley and finding his friend’s face growing flush at such a turn in the conversation.

“It was in Hertfordshire, but I have since informed my solicitor that I shall no longer be residing there and to not renew the agreement.”

Surprise did not even begin to describe Mr. Darcy’s response to news of this kind. While he had known Bingley to be struggling with the issue, he had not realized his young friend had already taken such actions.

“Shame. The birds in Hertfordshire made for excellent sport. I wish we had been able to return, even if for only a fortnight, to get in a few more shoots,” Mr. Hurst declared before downing the rest of his port and presenting the glass to his host for a refill.

“I am unfamiliar with the area,” Mr. Wyndham responded. “The sport in Newcastle is quite fine though, I assure you. Perhaps we shall plan a hunting party to travel to Locksley in the summer.”

“Capital!” Mr. Hurst declared.

Further surprised to hear of such arrangements being made between two seemingly new acquaintances, Mr. Darcy once again turned his attention towards Charles, only to find the gentleman determinedly looking anywhere but at him. Feeling a heaviness slowly beginning to settle deep within him, Mr. Darcy fixed his eyes sternly upon Bingley. Was there already something more to this friendship with the Wyndhams than his friend had thus far led him to believe?

Unfortunately for Mr. Darcy, he would not be allowed the opportunity to confirm his suspicions, for once the gentlemen had concluded their hour and returned to the ladies in the drawing room, Bingley had immediately sought the company of Miss Wyndham, who was conveniently sitting alone in one of two armchairs near the window. Examining the couple closely as they settled quietly into conversation, he could not mistake the dewy-eyed gaze with which Charles regarded Miss Wyndham, but with their heads bowed closely in their tête-a- tête, he was unable to observe the young woman’s expression and discern if her feelings appeared to mirror that of his love-struck friend.

Frustrated at being unable to pull Charles aside and loathing the idea of spending any additional time in the company of Mr. Wyndham and Mr. Hurst, he had been left with no other alternative than to take a turn about the room, observing Georgiana as she sat with the other ladies close to the fire. Sensing once more her discomfort within the group, he moved closer in hopes of hearing their conversation and identifying the source of her unease. What he heard left him highly discomforted as well.

“Can you imagine? Such scandal!” Miss Bingley was declaring, her expression animated in her excitement at the gossip Mrs. Wyndham was sharing.

“I am certain Lord Ashbourne shall not be seen about the Ton this season,” Mrs. Wyndham snickered.

“And certainly not Lady Ashbourne!” Miss Bingley quipped before the ladies then dissolved into a fit of giggles.

Mr. Darcy was halted at once in his steps, all too familiar with the gentleman in question as well as the scandal in which he was currently embroiled. His ire rising rapidly, he was equally overcome with anger at his sister being exposed to such distasteful gossip as well as disgust at the careless and cruel manner in which the lord was being discussed. Quickly approaching the group, he made no pretense of politeness as he interrupted their natter, making his displeasure known. “Madam, I do not believe such a conversation appropriate for the sensibilities of young maidens. If you will excuse my sister and I.” Then extending his hand to Georgiana, he signaled for her to join him as they made their way to a quiet corner of the drawing room, leaving a gaping Miss Bingley and an embarrassed Mrs. Wyndham in their wake.

“I am sorry-,” Georgiana began, fearing her brother to be unhappy with her for being party to such a scene, but her apology was quickly dismissing by her guardian.

“There is no need for you to apologize, dearest. I am simply appalled that a gentlewoman would believe it proper to discuss such an indelicate matter with anyone, least of all three unmarried young ladies.”

For a few moments they stood in tense silence; he seething and she terribly embarrassed by all she had heard. Slowly she gathered her courage, feeling the need to express her concerns for all she had learned. “I feel terribly for Lord Ashbourne. Were you aware of his distress?”

Nodding sharply, he turned his gaze to the floor and rubbed at his temple in frustration. “I had learned of the scandal upon my return to Town.”

“Have you not had word from him?”

“No, I have not. I believe he has withdrawn to his property in Scotland, and I have written to him there but do not expect to receive a reply for quite some time.”

After another few moments of silence, she dared to ask that which she knew he would not want to answer. “But tis it true? Has Lady Ashbourne abandoned their marriage and their son?”

Nodding sharply again, he finally returned his gaze to hers, touched by the expression of sympathy and concern she held for his childhood friend. “It is true, and I am certain he is hurting greatly at suffering such a betrayal.” He then looked once more towards the group of women gathered beside the fireplace and felt his anger growing again. “He does not deserve to be made the fodder for such drawing room gossip.”

Seeming to sense the return of his ire, Mrs. Wyndham and Miss Bingley averted their gazes from his own while Miss Parham and Mrs. Hurst chose to rise from the settee and move to another part of the room, seeking to distance themselves from the sources of Mr. Darcy’s displeasure.

“I fear I have been sitting too long in one attitude and would benefit greatly from a turn about the room; will you join me?”

At last, and for the first time that evening, he had received an invitation he actually wished to accept. Presenting his arm, he then led her slowly on a stroll along the perimeter of the drawing room, both focused on finding much happier matters with which to fill their time. But as they approached the window by which Mr. Bingley and Miss Wyndham were seated, Mr. Darcy remembered the purpose of his evening had been to enjoy the company of Bingley’s latest love. Unfortunately, the couple was so deeply absorbed in their conversation that they failed to notice initially the approach of the Darcy siblings.

“Do you believe you shall make an offer for Lechmere?” Miss Wyndham was asking.

“I believe the grounds to be quite beautiful, but I fear the amount of work which may be required before the manor house shall be inhabitable.”

“But tis only five miles from Locksley!”

“Ah, Mr. Darcy! Miss Darcy!” Miss Wyndham exclaimed upon finally noticing their proximity, and rising from her seat, she greeted her guests once more. “May I again express how very pleased I am that you have been able to join us this evening?”

“We thank you, Miss Wyndham,” Mr. Darcy responded before once again settling a firm glare upon Mr. Bingley; this latest bit of news serving to only further heighten his suspicions surrounding the purpose of their evening.

“Ah, Darcy!” Mr. Bingley also rose quickly to his feet, but the nervous air about him hinted to his great discomfort at having his conversation overheard by his old friend. “I have been meaning to ask of you, have you had the opportunity to see the latest production of The Fairy-Queen?”

“No, I have not.” To say he found such a question from Charles Bingley confusing would indeed be a great understatement. As the gentleman had never tended to show much interest in the opera, Mr. Darcy was quite wary as to the intent of such an inquiry.

“Miss Wyndham has expressed a great interest in seeing the production, and I thought you and Miss Darcy may care to join us one night.” Turning to Miss Darcy, he added, “I understand the music to be quite exemplary.”

“We thank you for the invitation,” Mr. Darcy was quick to answer, not wishing to commit one way or another to the prospect of another evening spent in the company of the Wyndhams and Miss Parham.

“Miss Darcy, I am to understand you are a great admirer of music,” Miss Wyndham then offered, seeking to dispel the tense silence which had settled over the group.

Nodding gently, Georgiana attested to as much, but offered little more in the way of conversation. For she had not missed the tension lacing the exchange between her brother and Mr. Bingley and felt uncertain as to how to proceed in their conversation.

“I believe my favorite part of visiting Town each season is having the opportunity to enjoy the opera,” Miss Wyndham continued, hoping to further engage her guests. “Do you care for the opera as well, Miss Darcy?”

Again Georgiana nodded and with as few words as possible expressed her appreciation for the theater. But after several more attempts to foster pleasant conversation, even Miss Wyndham was soon at a loss as to what to say. She too felt keenly the tense silence with which Mr. Darcy was regarding his friend, and soon Mr. Bingley was the one seeking a way to politely retreat from them.

“We are terribly sorry, we did not mean to interrupt your turn about the room. Pray, do not allow us to keep you a moment longer.” Then offering his arm to Miss Wyndham, they made their excuses and moved to join Mrs. Wyndham and Miss Bingley by the fire, both of whom appeared to have overcome their earlier discomfort and were once again chatting animatedly.

Resuming their slow stroll about the room, the Darcys remained silent, each lost to their own thoughts concerning their evening. Mr. Darcy was now firmly convinced his friend had purposely deceived him in communicating the true nature of his relationship with the Wyndham family; a deception which the gentleman could hardly overlook. Conveniently ignoring his own past transgressions where his friend was concerned, he debated the proper manner in which to address Bingley, insisting upon being told the full truth concerning the state of his relationship with the young lady. While such a discussion could not be achieved that night, in the home of the lady’s family, it most certainly needed to be had.

“Caroline says ten thousand a year! Is it true?”

“Aye, but be careful where Mr. Darcy is concerned. For Caroline has not taken kindly to your attentions towards him this evening.”

Stopping abruptly in their progress, the Darcys turned to identify the source of these comments, surprised to find that in their distracted state they had made yet another circle about the room and were now standing closely to where Miss Parham and Mrs. Hurst were seated, working on their embroidery. Obviously having failed to notice their approach, the women continued in their stitching and discussion of the wealthy young bachelor, unaware that the very object of that discussion was within earshot.

Mr. Darcy was the first to recover from his surprise, and turning then to Georgiana, he was struck by the expression of both shock and mortification upon her face. For she had never before experienced the calculating manner in which her brother was often discussed among the ladies of the Ton. Pulling on her arm gently, he encouraged her to retreat with him quietly, avoiding alerting the women to their presence not more than a few feet away.

Upon distancing themselves from the rest of the room, Georgiana finally admitted that the evening had become too much for her and looked to her brother, her expression pleading as she asked, “Brother? I find I am developing a terrible headache. Would it be possible to return home now?”

“Yes,” he drawled. “I believe I am developing one as well.”


	20. Chapter 20

The second week of Elizabeth’s residency on Gracechurch Street was marked by significant improvements in the health of their young guest, as well as a return to the normalcy of the Gardiner home. While her presence at the townhouse continued to remain hidden from the friends and acquaintances of her aunt and uncle, the daily routine of the household had once again settled into a familiar pattern.

Each morning, Elizabeth rose at her usual early hour, enjoying the opportunity it afford her to share a quiet breakfast with her uncle before he would leave for the warehouse. After a short visit to the nursery to assist with rousing her cousins and preparing them for their day of school room lessons, she would then retreat to her own room, where she busied herself with making the necessary alterations to the gowns given to her upon her removal from Berkeley Square; her primary goal being to let out the bodices, rendering them far more comfortable for daily wear. If she also happened to use this time abovestairs to add or remove adornments to the gowns, tailoring their design to more closely adhere to her own personal preferences, once could hardly fault her for her labours.

Once the visiting hours had passed, she would then join her aunt in carrying out the duties about the house which required the mistress’ attention, while awaiting the return of Mr. Gardiner in the evening. Or, at least she did as much as she could to assist her aunt as the pain in her side, although noticeably less taxing than it had been previously, still plagued her with enough frequency to remind her to take care in her exertions. It was a sentiment echoed by Mr. Hodgson during his visit the previous Tuesday. Pleased to see the progress which had already been achieved in but one short week, he had commended Mrs. Gardiner for the excellent care her niece was clearly receiving, but warned against trying to push herself too far too quickly, lest she set her recovery back. Continued rest and limited movements were the orders issued by the physician before quietly requesting to speak with her aunt privately.

At first concerned by the unusual nature of such a request, given that all seemed to be healing well, she had waited anxiously for her aunt to return from her private interview with the doctor. When at last she reappeared, Elizabeth had been surprised to find her aunt well, wearing but a pleased smile and a seemingly glowing air. As Mrs. Gardiner simply declared herself delighted to receive such wonderful news concerning Elizabeth’s progress, she had quickly dismissed the topic all-together and excused herself to check upon the children.

Evenings were often spent enjoying a loud but jovial dinner with the entirety of the Gardiner family, before the children would then be ushered up to the nursery and assisted in their preparations for bed by their mother, cousin, and nurse. Once seeing the children settled comfortably into their beds, the Gardiners and Elizabeth would then settle into the drawing room for a few hours of tea, conversation, and a little music before also retiring to their beds for the night.

It was a pleasant routine which at times helped Elizabeth forget, for even a short time, that all was not truly well. Reminders of the unusual circumstances under which she was living were never far from her mind. Whether it was inadvertently walking in on hushed conversations between her aunt and uncle, conversations quickly abandoned upon her arrival, or the twisted images and tortured scenes which haunted her dreams nightly, the ugly truth surrounding her presence in London was never far from her thoughts.

Even her much anticipated Sunday afternoon with Jane had been tainted by the dark cloud hanging over the Gardiner townhouse. Now as Elizabeth sat quietly in her chamber, her mood was subdued as she reflected on her visit with Jane the previous day. While the visit had not been interrupted by further questions as expected, it certainly was not an afternoon free from concern. Several times, Elizabeth had caught Jane lost in quiet moments of contemplation, watching her closely as her sister seemed to debate giving voice to the questions which were clearly plaguing her. Although Jane ultimately decided against raising her concerns, her altered mood had been quite easy to discern and lent an air of dulled enthusiasm to what should have otherwise been a lovely afternoon spent in the company of loved ones.

As the distant sound of the doorbell heralded the beginning of her aunt’s morning calls, Elizabeth shifted slightly in her seat, settling more comfortably into her work removing small ivory bows from the sleeves of another gown, one of several gifted to her by Mr. Darcy upon her return to her family.

Mr. Darcy. Yet another source of unease which had troubled Elizabeth greatly since his unexpected visit the week earlier. In the days following his unannounced arrival and even more astonishing request, each ringing of the bell had caused Elizabeth’s heart to leap within her chest, uncertain as to how she would respond if he had indeed arrived with his sister, intent upon an introduction. Alas, even Aunt Gardiner had been confounded by the gentleman.

_“He what?” Aunt Gardiner gasped, her surprise apparent at learning of the events which had transpired following her return abovestairs._

_“He asked to introduce his sister,” Elizabeth repeated, rubbing gently at her forehead in a show of her disquiet._

_“Why on earth would he ask such a thing? Surely he knows such an introduction to be… ill-advised at best!”_

_“I do not know!” Sighing, Elizabeth slapped at her thigh in exasperation. “There is nothing about that gentleman which I could ever hope to understand!”_

_After a few moments of unsettled silence, Mrs. Gardiner then inquired, “And what did you say in response?”_

_“I knew not what to say! After all he has done to assist me, I surely could not deny him such a simple request!”_

_“Did he provide an indication as to when he intends to bring Miss Darcy to call?”_

_“No, he simply thanked me, bowed, and left!”_

_After a few moments more spent in quiet contemplation, Mrs. Gardiner finally commented, “Well, I will say one thing for the gentleman: he certainly knows how to make an entrance. And exit!” Eliciting from her niece an unladylike snort as she dissolved into giggles._

_“Aye, he does!”_

Thankfully after a week with no sign of the gentleman, she had finally dismissed the worry that he may return. For after all, it truly defied any form of logic that such a man would truly wish to introduce his sister to a woman brought so low and tainted with such ruin. Convinced the request had only been put forth as a show of politeness, she was now quite convinced that it was indeed an event which would never take place.

The sudden sound of a knock upon the door cut through the stillness of the chamber, startling Elizabeth greatly and causing her needle to slip, drawing a drop of blood with a sharp prick to her thumb. Calling for whoever it was to enter, she watched in some confusion as the door opened to reveal Mrs. Morris.

“You have visitors, Miss,” the housekeeper announced, “Mr. Darcy and a young lady, Miss Darcy.”

Frozen in stunned silence, Elizabeth certainly made quite the picture for the old housekeeper; her eyes wide with shock and her injured thumb pressed tightly against her pursed lips. At last, after several moments spent in this attitude, she managed to mumble, “Mr. Darcy?”

“Aye Miss, and his sister. The mistress is with them now in the morning room.”

Finally drawing her hand from her mouth, Elizabeth dazedly looked down to the dress resting upon her lap, a gown that was once the property of Miss Georgiana Darcy, as was the light yellow one she was currently wearing. Having in her possession no gowns other than those brought from Berkeley Square, she groaned quietly at the realization that not only was she unprepared to meet the young woman, but that she would have to do so while wearing one of the gentlewoman’s own gowns!

“Miss?” Mrs. Morris called gently, “Shall I inform the mistress that you will be joining them shortly?”

“Ah, yes. My apologies; I was not expecting to receive visitors and require only but a moment.”

Bobbing a curtsey, the housekeeper turned from the room, quietly closing the door behind her as she left. Staring blankly at the door for another moment or so, Elizabeth’s head began to swim; the rush of adrenaline mixing with the utter confusion at discovering that Mr. Darcy was once again awaiting her in the morning room below. Slowly rising to her feet, she cast about the chamber hurriedly, almost as if seeking an escape from the inevitable.

Finally making her way to the mirror, she gazed intently at her reflection, adjusting the stray strands of hair which had come loose from their pins and pinching her cheeks in hopes of bringing some color to her still drawn complexion. Then looking once more to her gown, she reached for the lace lying upon the nearby table, arranging it just so in an attempt to further alter the style of the dress. While she had removed a number of the ribbons and trim that had originally adorned it, rendering it a gown more fitting for a grown woman than that of a young girl, she could not suppose it enough to make the dress unrecognizable to its previous owner. Not quite satisfied with the results of her handiwork, she glanced once more about her chamber, finding the light green shawl lent to her by her Aunt Madeline. Draping it about her shoulders, she gave herself one more quick glimpse in the mirror before turning towards the door and slowly exited the chamber.

As she made her way down the stairs, her hands fidgeted nervously with the shawl wrapped about her, adjusting it this way and that in an attempt to cover as much of her gown as possible. At the same time, her mind continued to spin wildly, her breathing heightened and her heart beating quickly. Calling to mind all she could remember about the young lady, she suddenly realized that she had not any hope of knowing what to expect from Miss Darcy, as all of her knowledge concerning the young miss was gained through the likes of Miss Bingley and Mr. Wickham; the former likely to be biased by her regard for the young maiden’s brother and the latter by his grievances, no matter how justly deserved, towards the very same gentleman. All she could know for sure was that if she shared the tendencies of her brother, it would be a most trying visit indeed!

The muffled sound of a gentleman’s voice reached her first through the closed door, followed then by some response from Aunt Madeline. Taking one last deep breath, Elizabeth reached a shaking hand forward and quietly opened the door before her.

“… on the green by the smithy!” Aunt Gardiner was saying; the jovial tenor of her tone surprising Elizabeth greatly.

“Yes, the very same,” Mr. Darcy smiled before then turning his eyes to the door and swiftly rising to his feet, alerting the ladies to Elizabeth’s arrival. After rising from his bow, he then commenced with introducing his sister.

“Miss Darcy, it is a very great pleasure to make your acquaintance!” she greeted, hoping her attempt at enthusiasm was not nearly as transparent as it felt. But as she then watched the young girl blush and quietly stutter her own greeting in return, Elizabeth was soon overcome with a strong sense of sympathy. It was painfully obvious within the span of her monosyllabic reply that the young Miss Darcy was as terribly embarrassed by the situation as she!

Seeking to put her guest at ease, Elizabeth assumed a place beside her on the settee and set about drawing attention away from the young girl, and to be honest herself as well, by apologizing for interrupting their conversation and inquiring after the green of which her aunt had been speaking.

“Oh, we were discussing a lovely little village in Derbyshire called Lambton. Did I ever tell you, Lizzy, of my time there?”

“No, I do not believe you have.”

“Oh yes! My family and I lived there for a few years when I was still but a young girl. Such beautiful countryside and lovely people,” Aunt Madeline explained, her tone becoming almost wistful at the memories.

At this point, their attention was turned to Mr. Darcy as he added, “I certainly must agree. Lambton is but five miles from Pemberley, and we conduct a good deal of our business with its merchants and residents.”

“I remember there used to be a charming little confectioner’s shop on the corner by the inn. Pray, is it still there?”

“Mrs. Shaw’s shop? Yes, and her treats are as tempting as ever. I must admit my sister and I cannot conclude a visit to the village without sampling some of her heavenly confections.” He smiled kindly to his sister, who nodded gently in agreement but offered very little beyond that.

“It truly does sound lovely. There is certainly a charm to small, country villages which I find I miss quite terribly when I am in Town,” Elizabeth observed. She then turned to her guest, hoping to further the attempts already made by Mr. Darcy to encourage the young girl to join the discourse. “Have you ever found such to be the case when you visit Town, Miss Darcy?”

“I do,” she nodded, her answer barely above that of whisper.

Then hearing Mrs. Gardiner once again take up her conversation with the gentleman, their voices lowered slightly to allow the two young women to talk amongst themselves, she continued in her attempts to gently draw the girl out. “I also often find myself missing the beauties of nature while in Town; I do so enjoy being out-of-doors.”

“I do as well.”

“Pray, are you a great admirer of nature?”

This finally seemed to offer enough encouragement for the shy Miss Darcy, for she then began to take up her side of their conversation. With a timid smile and brief casting of her eyes to her lap, she rallied her courage to respond. “I am. I do so love to ride, and the countryside of Derbyshire is so vast as to allow for much exploration upon horseback.” With a brief pause, she then inquired, “Do you ride, Miss Bennet?”

“Oh no!” Elizabeth laughed quietly, relieved to finally see an opportunity to learn more about the mysterious Miss Darcy of whom she had heard so much. “I must admit to being rather ill-suited to such pursuits. When I was but eight or nine, my sister Jane and I were finally put to task learning to ride. Our groom was a very good instructor and my sister took to it quite naturally. However, our horse Nelly was rather convinced she did not much care for my company and promptly tossed me to the dirt beside the mounting block!”

Gasping at hear such, Miss Darcy’s eyes grew wide in their surprise, but as Elizabeth merely laughed in response, she was soon smiling as well. “That must have hurt a great deal!”

“Oh, both my body and my pride were quiet sore for several days following my decidedly failed attempt at riding. But I cannot lament it too much; I find I much prefer exploring using naught but my own two feet.”

“Yes, my brother had mentioned you once walked several miles to tend to your sister when she was ill at Netherfield.”

To hear this certainly caught Elizabeth off-guard, and she could not keep herself from looking to the gentleman in her disbelief. Her surprise was then made complete when she discovered that while Mr. Darcy was attentive in his conversation with her aunt, he also appeared to be observing the interaction between the two younger women quite closely. Their eyes catching for but a moment, she was then forced by her embarrassment to look away, returning her attention to Miss Darcy and picking up their tête e tête as if naught were amiss. “Oh, tis but three miles between Longbourn and Netherfield!”

“Three miles! My, such a distance to travel by foot!”

Brushing aside her companion’s surprise, as well as her own discomfort, she explained, “Tis a distance I traverse daily when I am home. I do so miss my morning walks when I am in Town.” Then feeling her mischievous sense of humor once again returning, she leaned forward slightly and dropped her voice to a playful whisper, “I fear I am about to scandalize you, Miss Darcy.” Pausing to watch the girl’s eyes grow in wonder as she too leaned forward, Elizabeth then confessed, “I much prefer the country to Town!”

At that Miss Darcy could not contain her giggles, entertained by the teasing nature of their exchange.

“I know such a confession would send much of the Ton into a swoon, but I fear I cannot help myself. Judge me as you will, Miss Darcy, for it is quite well deserved!”

Her smile now bright, Miss Darcy leaned forward once more and whispered, “Then I must confess as well, Miss Bennet.” She too paused dramatically, watching as Elizabeth raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I too prefer Derbyshire to Town.”

And with a merry laugh between them at their own silliness, Elizabeth declared, “Then I fear we together, Miss Darcy, shall truly scandalize Society!”

As their merriment once again filled the room, they remained unaware of the audience their playful antics had drawn. Both Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner had since abandoned their own conversation in lieu of observing the pair and their lively banter. But it was not only they who were being studied so closely, for Mrs. Gardiner had not failed to notice the great interest with which the gentleman had watched the two women interact. Nor had she missed the curious gaze of which her niece had often, and unwittingly, been the focus.

And so passed the half hour, and the Darcys were soon rising to their feet to make their farewells, not wishing to overstay their welcome. Elizabeth expressed her pleasure once more at meeting Miss Darcy’s acquaintance, only this time truly being in possession of those sentiments expressed. Likewise, Miss Darcy shared her own enjoyment of their time together and thanked Elizabeth for her gracious hospitality. Then turning to make their respective farewells to Mr. Darcy and Mrs. Gardiner, they were both in time to hear:

“I had hoped for an opportunity to speak with Mr. Gardiner, but am uncertain as to when would be the most convenient time to do so,” Mr. Darcy was quietly saying to Mrs. Gardiner.

“I am afraid he is often away for much of the day. But perhaps you and Miss Darcy would care to join us for dinner?”

Bowing respectfully in receipt of such an invitation, the gentleman expressed his very great pleasure at the prospect and informed his hostess that she need but name the day and they would be happy to attend. Settling upon the following evening as agreeable to all, the Darcys once again thanked Mrs. Gardiner and her niece for their hospitality and made their way from the room.

As the door closed behind them, Mrs. Gardiner turned at once to Elizabeth and raised but a single eyebrow in inquiry. “It seems there is a great deal more to your Mr. Darcy than I had previously supposed. Pray, enlighten me, my dear?”

*****PnP*****

As the Darcy carriage navigated its way slowly through the congested streets of London, heading back towards Berkeley Square, Mr. Darcy listened in pleasured contentment as Georgiana talked quite animatedly about her visit with Miss Bennet.

“I am delighted to hear we shall be joining them tomorrow for dinner!” As her brother then responded with only a nod of agreement and seemed unlikely to offer any more than that, she inquired after his desire to meet with Mr. Gardiner.

Prepared for just such a question, he did not hesitate as he delivered his response. “As you know, I am often looking for new investment opportunities, and I believe Mr. Gardiner’s business to be a very promising prospect.”

“Is this the investment decision with which you have been struggling?”

_That_ he was not expecting, but quickly covering his surprise he responded simply. “Aye.”

“May I inquire as to what it is about Mr. Gardiner’s business which carries such risk?”

Goodness, his sister’s inquisitiveness and quickness of mind were certainly becoming a match for his own! He could not help wondering if he should express his admiration to Mrs. Annesley when next he saw her or dismiss her on the spot!

Making a show of considering how best to explain his dilemma, he used the few moments of silence it afforded him to construct an answer. “He works in the import and export business, which is as always heavily impacted by the state of foreign matters. With the turmoil caused on the Continent by Napoleon these past years, it certainly makes such an investment risky.”

As Georgiana nodded thoughtfully in understanding, he continued. “However after meeting Mr. Gardiner, I believe him to be a wise and cautious businessman, one worthy of my trust in such matters.”

“That must be so,” she agreed.

“Why do you say that?”

“I could not help but notice the fineness of Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet’s dresses. I do believe Miss Bennet’s was cut from the same yellow muslin as my gowns from Madame Devy’s.”

It was all the better that this time Mr. Darcy was not seated at the dinner table when Miss Darcy’s made her observation. Otherwise, he would have been sure to either choke to death on his cake or spit his coffee all over the settings! As it was, he was instead left sitting in stunned silence as he stared out the carriage window, his eyes wide in horror and his throat too tight to even mumble a response to her comment. How could he have forgotten about the gowns?!

And, it was in that state of extreme embarrassment and discomposure that he remained until they arrived at Darcy House and he was able to withdraw to the safety of his study. He however was not alone in his discomfort as Elizabeth was fairing just as poorly with her family as Mr. Darcy was with his!

“He proposed?”

Again Elizabeth nodded, thinking that if it were not for her own supreme discomfort with their conversation, she would have been far more entertained by the rather dumbfounded expression upon her aunt’s face. But as it was, she was now caught in the very conversation which she had hoped to never have with anyone.

“Why did you not mention this sooner?”

“Because I did not wish anyone to know,” Elizabeth answered honestly. “It was terribly humiliating for us both; he for the horrid rejection he received when presenting his suit, and I for being proven so very wrong in my judgment of him as well as Mr. Wickham! But then it was all cast so quickly from my mind when I received Jane’s express two days later, informing me of Papa’s passing and calling me home.”

This drew another gasp from Aunt Madeline as the full weight of these events settled upon her. “Oh, Lizzy…”

“Then when he was the one to enter the chamber that night, I believed my humiliation complete! To reject his hand with such hateful words only to then have him bear witness to my utter disgrace…” Her voiced faded for a moment as she struggled to keep her emotions in check. “But now he has been only the most gracious and honorable of men despite it all. I shall be forever grateful for the care and assistance granted to me in my time of need. But for the life of me, I cannot understand why he has been so kind given how horribly I have treated him.”

Mrs. Gardiner listened quietly as her niece spoke, absorbing all she was hearing while minding the distress under which the young woman was clearly suffering. Her suspicions confirmed, she now sought to ease Elizabeth’s worries by choosing a different path for their discussion. “He strikes me as being very protective of his sister.”

“Yes, I have often been given to understand they are quite close.”

“You and she appeared to get on well, despite her rather shy nature. Perhaps that is why he has sought this introduction?”

“But he surely must know that fostering an acquaintance between us will only endanger Miss Darcy’s reputation!”

“Perhaps he believes the risk to be worthwhile,” Mrs. Gardiner suggested. “If in doing so Miss Darcy may find a true and genuine friend with whom to engage, then the possibility for scandal is too heavily outweighed.”

Elizabeth chewed upon her aunt’s words for a few moments before observing, “She seems a lovely young girl. I cannot imagine she must have much difficulty in forming friendships. Yes, she is shy, but there must be other young ladies among her acquaintances whom she can befriend.”

“Remember, my dear, her peers are of the First Circle … and her brother a very handsome, very wealthy bachelor…” Her aunt’s hint less than subtle.

“Mmmm, I do see your point. If the rest of her peers are at all like Miss Bingley, I can surely see why she would have such difficulties.” With a sigh, Elizabeth then added, “She certainly have no fear of such from me.”

Masterfully hiding her smile, Mrs. Gardiner nodded and added, “If today is any indication, I believe sharing our table with Miss Darcy will be very good for her indeed.”

“Why did you invite them for dinner?” Elizabeth then asked, in part in curiosity and perhaps a bit of frustration.

“Mr. Darcy wishes to speak with your uncle,” she answered simply while picking up her embroidery. “Far be it for me to interfere in the business matters of men.”

*****PnP*****

The following morning found Mr. Darcy once again diligently at work, reviewing ledgers and letters of business, when a knock upon his study door interrupted him. Unsurprised to see Mr. Hawkins enter, announcing that Mr. Bingley was there to see him, he instructed his butler to show the man in and leaned back in his desk chair as he awaited his friend’s arrival. It was a call he had been anticipating since the previous morning, when they had returned home from Gracechurch Street and been informed that Bingley had called while he was out. Apparently, upon receiving news that the master was not at home, Charles had declared his intention to return later in the day, but that however had never come to pass, and Mr. Darcy had instead spent the remainder of his day seeking solitude in his study to reflect upon all that had occurred during their morning call.

The study door opened once more, allowing what appeared to be the usual, good humored Mr. Bingley to enter. “Darcy! How are you old man?”

Completing the customary routine – a hand shake, an offer of a drink, and the ready acceptance of a glass before settling into their respective chairs on either side of the desk – Mr. Darcy apologized for missing his friend’s call the preceding day.

“Oh no, do allow me to apologize. I had intended to try you later, but I unfortunately was detained by a few matters of business, leaving me with too little time to call again.”

Accepting this apology, Mr. Darcy then inquired after the purpose of Mr. Bingley’s call, far too impatient to be done with the charade. “What may I do for you, Charles?”

“Ah, right to the point then, I see,” Mr. Bingley joked as he shifted slightly in his seat, anxiously uncrossing and then re-crossing his legs before taking a sip of brandy. “Well, first I wish to apologize for Caroline. I have come to understand that she and Mrs. Wyndham made some rather… thoughtless comments concerning your good friend, Lord Ashbourne.”

Staring steadily at Charles for a few moments, Mr. Darcy felt the urge to literally bite his tongue in an attempt to avoid saying what he truly wished in regard to those two women. Eventually, he responded, “Yes, I was quite displeased to hear them discussing James in such a manner, but what I found even more objectionable was that they did so while Georgiana was in their company.”

This information was clearly new to Mr. Bingley as he sat up a bit straighter in his chair. “They did? Oh, then pray allow me to apologize profusely for such behavior! I am grieved indeed that she was subjected to such… such…”

Appearing unable to find the appropriate, yet diplomatic word to use, Mr. Darcy chose instead to finish his sentence for him. “Vulgarity?”

Turning his eyes to his glass, Charles nodded; for there really was no word more appropriate to describe the discussion of such scandal while in the company of others. Then collecting himself, he returned his attention to his friend and apologized once again. “I am truly sorry, Darcy.”

The sincerity of his apology was enough to finally penetrate Mr. Darcy’s dark mood, and taking pity upon his friend, who truly could not be held responsible for the behavior of two grown women, he brushed the subject aside. “Think on it no longer. I certainly shall not.”

Once again beaming in his relief, Mr. Bingley took another long draught from his glass before then broaching the subject behind his true reason for calling. “I was delighted you had the opportunity to make Miss Wyndham’s acquaintance.”

“Mmmm, yes.”

Ignoring his friend’s lack of enthusiasm, Mr. Bingley continued, “She wished me to pass along her regards to yourself and Miss Darcy. She greatly enjoyed making your acquaintances.”

“As did we, please pass along our regards as well.”

In the days since that disastrous dinner party, Mr. Darcy had taken the opportunity to review his impressions of the young lady as well as their interactions, as limited as they were. She had seemed friendly and kind in her attitude towards them and had indeed been very welcoming to both he and Georgiana. Only recognizing later how very rude he had been in response to such solicitousness, he had felt some sense of self-reproach at his own behavior, having allowed his suspicions and anger to get the better of him.

“You did? Capital!” With his excitement barely containable, Mr. Bingley pushed onward in hopes of securing his friend’s good opinion, “You approve of her then? I mean, is she not lovely? An absolute angel!”

It took all of Mr. Darcy’s self-control to hold himself in check, to not roll his eyes and sigh in exasperation as he wished to. Deeply uninterested in bearing witness to yet another of his friend’s love affairs, he had hoped to avoid this very situation; however, for him to expect any less from Charles at this point would be an exercise in self-delusion. The longer he had reflected on the Wyndhams’ dinner party, the further he was convinced that his suspicions were justified.

“Is my approval needed?”

“W-w-well no… No, I do not suppose it is. But I should very much like to have it all the same.”

“On what in particular do you seek my approval?”

“Miss Wyndham of course!”

“Charles, perhaps it would be best, in the interest of both my time and yours, if you were to cut to the quick and explain quite plainly what this is all about,” Mr. Darcy suggested, then taking another sip of his brandy, he settled further into his chair and awaited his friend’s response.

Mr. Bingley, however, bolted from his seat and began to pace rapidly to and fro before the desk, running his hands through his hair repeatedly as he gathered the courage to speak. After several laps and with his curls now wildly askew, he finally stopped and turned towards his long-time friend. “I am in love.”

When all he received in response was a nod of understanding and continued silence, he was finally forced to relent and share the whole of his tale. “Miss Wyndham and I spent a great deal of time in one another’s company during our time together in Scarborough. She is all that is gracious and lovely, and I have never in my years upon this earth meet with such a kind and generous soul as she!” Then taking up his pacing once more, he expounded for several minutes more on the many great acts of kindness and charity in which the young lady was often engaged, from bringing baskets to her father’s tenants once a month to sewing gowns for newly born babes on the estate.

In attentive silence, Mr. Darcy listened as Charles expounded without pause on the many great qualities of the young lady. She did indeed appear to be all that was proper and expected of a gentleman’s daughter; her list of good deeds very similar to those of his own mother and sister in their role as mistress to Pemberley’s tenants. If indeed all he was hearing was the truth, she could possible do very well by Charles, as the wife of a man looking to establish himself as a landowner and master. However, she was also far from the only young woman of their respective circles who could claim as much.

“… and so what I wish to tell you, Darcy…” Here Charles finally paused to take a breath, once again coming to a halt before Mr. Darcy’s desk. “Miss Wyndham and I have an understanding.”

The silence that filled the room following this announcement was deafening; the ticking of the mantle clock and the crackling of the fire being the only sounds which could be heard for several long moments. As the two men watched each other closely, Mr. Bingley was clearly attempting to discern his friend’s thoughts, despite the blank expression upon his face, while Mr. Darcy was engaged in processing all he had heard. When at last the latter did finally speak, it was to ask, “An understanding?”

Whatever response Mr. Bingley had been expecting, this was most certainly not it! “Y-y-yes, we have an understanding. Her grandmother is currently quite ill, and her family has requested we not yet announce our engagement, as it would be inappropriate to do so at such a time.”

“I see,” Mr. Darcy replied. “And shall Miss Wyndham be assuming the role of Netherfield’s mistress upon your marriage?”

“Ah, no.” Clearly uncomfortable with the reference to his time in Hertfordshire, Mr. Bingley cast his eyes to his feet, shuffling them nervously as he explained, “I have allowed the lease to lapse. I am now looking into purchasing a property which would settle us closer to Miss Wyndham’s family in the north.”

“I see,” Mr. Darcy again replied before rising to his feet, offering his hand to his friend as he bid, “Pray, accept my congratulations on your engagement and pass along to your fiancée my wishes for your future happiness.”

To say that his declaration of happiness for the young couple was lacking in enthusiasm would not be far from the truth. For although he presented no argument against the pending marriage, he certainly held a great many doubts concerning the wisdom of such a match. But having learned in the most trying manner imaginable to avoid getting involved in another’s love life, he was determined to adhere to his resolve to no longer meddle in Charles’ affairs.

All of this was lost, however, on Charles Bingley. Upon receiving his friend’s congratulations, he had failed to notice the lackluster tone of the felicitation and instead shook Mr. Darcy’s hand fiercely as he thanked him for his blessing. “I am so pleased you approve!” Mr. Bingley declared. “Joscelin will be so very happy to hear it! Come, you must join us for dinner! Tonight!”

Shaking his head quickly, Mr. Darcy declined the request, explaining that they had already received an invitation to dine with a family friend that evening.

“Ah, well we shall make arrangements soon then?”

Begrudgingly, Mr. Darcy agreed and then offered his friend a celebratory drink, which was declined. Declaring that he had business which required his attention, he thanked his friend once more for his support before taking his leave.

When the door closed behind him, Mr. Darcy finally released the long sigh which he had been suppressing since the interview began. Making his way to the window, he sipped quietly at his brandy as he watched the bustle of the street below. In but a minute or two he espied Charles stepping on to the sidewalk below and watched as he quickly made his way down the block, disappearing around the corner. Filling with a strong sense of disquiet, he began to question if he had indeed made the correct decision in abstaining from counseling his young friend. But what good was there to come from getting involved once more in the personal affairs of Charles Bingley? After all, he certainly had his own share of complicated matters which demanded his attention; matters in which, to be honest, he was far more vested.

*****PnP*****

“Do you believe she will notice?” Elizabeth asked, turning this way and that before the mirror in her bed chamber.

“I do not believe we can do much to mask the fabric,” Aunt Gardiner replied, reaching to adjust the fichu tucked into the back of the dark blue gown. “But I believe the alterations we have made will be enough to dissuade any suspicions concerning the origin of your dress.”

Humming in agreement, Elizabeth ran her fingers once more along the low neckline of the gown, feeling for any threads which may have been missed in their hasty needlework. Of all the gowns Elizabeth had been given, this she had discovered to be among her more favorite. It was simple in its design, once the additional adornments had been removed, and she found the deep navy blue of the muslin complemented her darker coloring quite nicely. Having then borrowed a white silk shawl and matching tucker from her aunt, she was pleased to discover how nicely they accentuated the pale striping woven into the length of the fabric.

“However,” Aunt Madeline continued, turning her attention to her niece’s reflection, “if we are to continue beyond this evening in our acquaintance with Miss Darcy, I believe we will need to visit the modiste at once. We cannot have you continuing to meet with the young lady while wearing her old gowns.”

Elizabeth’s chest tightened as she considered her aunt’s words, uncertain as to whether she was truly ready to emerge from the shelter of her uncle’s home and once again interact with those beyond her family circle. She knew, of course, that the time would eventually arrive when she would be required to return to the normal routines and daily activities of a young lady about the Town. But the fears of being recognized, or worse crossing paths with either the madame herself or one of her servants, was absolutely paralyzing. It was a weakness in herself which she loathed and an embarrassment she could not bring herself to admit to.

Seeming to read her thoughts, Aunt Madeline gently wrapped her arms about her niece, offering her comfort in a manner only a mother can provide. “All shall be well, my dear. Have faith, for this too shall pass.”

Releasing a deep, shuddering sigh, she smiled affectionately at her aunt’s reflection and nodded gently in accord. “I know. I do.” Basking in their embrace for another few moments, Elizabeth then released another sigh and turned to face her aunt, this time with a playful smirk upon her lips, “What say you, Aunt? Am I indeed worthy of presentation to our guests, or would I be better served by donning the potato sack?”

Laughing genially in turn, Aunt Madeline shook her head once again in disbelief. “I still cannot believe she did that!” Even several years later, the memory of her three year old daughter once greeting Mr. Gardiner’s business associate while dressed in naught but a burlap sack was still a source of great amusement among the Gardiner family. “You however look lovely, Lizzy.”

It was not much later that the ladies were to be found in the drawing room, awaiting the return of Mr. Gardiner, who had made a point to leave the warehouse earlier than usual to be ready in time for their guests’ arrival. Upon returning home from work the previous evening, he had been as equally surprised to learn of their pending dinner engagement as the ladies had been upon hosting their morning call earlier in the day.

_“He called again?” Mr. Gardiner asked in disbelief._

_“Yes, and he brought his sister, Miss Darcy, with him as well,” Mrs. Gardiner responded nonchalantly as she finished preparing her husband’s cup of tea._

_“Why on earth would he do that? I did not believe him to be in earnest when he requested the introduction.”_

_“Neither did I,” Elizabeth replied, absentmindedly stirring her tea as she quietly mused over the events of their morning._

_“They will be joining us for dinner tomorrow as well,” Mrs. Gardiner then announced, handing her husband his tea before taking up her own._

_“Dinner?”_

_“Yes, Mr. Darcy expressed a desire to speak with you, my dear, and inquired after when that could best be accomplished. Believing it would be better to arrange such a meeting sooner rather than later, lest we all be driven mad with speculation, I invited them to dine with us tomorrow.”_

_Humming in agreement with her reasoning, Mr. Gardiner then asked, “And did he provide any indications as to what it is he wishes to speak with me about?”_

_“I am afraid not. I believe him to be a gentleman who prefers to keep his cards rather close to the vest, as you would say.”_

_Humming again in agreement, Mr. Gardiner acknowledged that he had come away with the very same impression following his own interactions with the gentleman. “Lizzy, have you any thoughts as to what he can be about?”_

_“I fear I am no better at interpreting Mr. Darcy’s thoughts and behavior now than when I first met him.”_

_As they quietly sipped their tea and reflected upon the strange behavior of the gentleman, Mr. Gardiner posed his thoughts to the room, “Well, perhaps I can use this opportunity to settle our debt with him.”_

_“My dear,” Mrs. Gardiner interrupted, “I believe I must agree with Lizzy. After meeting with him now twice, I do not believe he is interested in being reimbursed the funds extended in bringing Lizzy to us.” Then catching her husband’s eye for a brief moment, shared with him a look he could not fail to understand. There was clearly more Mrs. Gardiner had to say on the matter, but that part of their conversation would have to wait until after they had retired for the evening._

_The room then fell into silence for a few moments more before Mr. Gardiner decided to change the topic, asking, “And what impression have you of Miss Darcy, Lizzy?”_

_Looking up from her tea, she seemed startled for a moment to find herself being addressed. Then gathering her thoughts replied, “Oh, she seems a lovely young lady, but I fear she is rather painfully shy. It required no small amount of encouragement to engage her in conversation.”_

_“I do believe, however, that despite Miss Darcy’s shyness, she did enjoy her visit with us immensely,” Mrs. Gardiner offered. “I feel quite confident she will be able to take great pleasure in our small family dinner.”_

_“I believe you are correct, Aunt.”_

_“Well then, if that is so, I believe we shall all be in for a rather intriguing evening.”_

Mr. Gardiner did indeed arrive home earlier than was his usual wont, and by the time he joined the ladies in the drawing room, it was clear he had wasted no little time in dressing for dinner before joining them. Passing the time as they awaited their guests, Mr. Gardiner answered questions concerning his day and discussing the new shipment of spices and silks which had just arrived from the Indies. When at last the distant ringing of the doorbell could be heard, the drawing room fell into silence at once; each sitting quietly in preparation as they listened for the sound of approaching footsteps.

After what seemed an eternity to Elizabeth, Mrs. Morris’ knock finally announced the arrival of the Darcys, and they each rose to their feet in preparation for receiving their guests; Mrs. Gardiner readily assuming her role as hostess in welcoming them and conducting the introductions between her husband and Miss Darcy. “We are delighted you are able to join us this evening.”

“We thank you for your generous invitation,” Mr. Darcy replied, his manner as proper and formal as always.

Once all were settled, the Darcys assuming one of the settees and Elizabeth and her aunt upon the other, Mrs. Gardiner once again took up the task of fostering conversation, commenting on the rather cold turn in the weather they had experienced in the past few days. With all assembled in agreement, they talked for several minutes on the predictions for the coming winter and compared their respective experiences with wintering in various parts of the country.

Much like their morning call the previous day, it was left to Mr. Darcy to carry their side of the exchange, the gentleman performing such with an unexpected ease, as Miss Darcy once again appeared hesitant to contribute to the discourse. However, Elizabeth’s determination to find some manner with which to engage their young guest eventually proved effective. “There is such beauty, such majesty in the new-fallen snow; would you not agree, Miss Darcy?”

Nodding gently, the young miss at first did not appear likely to offer more, but seeming to gather her courage, she finally did reply, “Yes, I believe the grounds at Pemberley to be their most lovely in the snow.”

Adding his support to his sister's declaration, Mr. Darcy ventured, "I must agree with my sister. The country can be rather picturesque in the winter."

“And there is such a peacefulness, too, that I find accompanies the falling snow, a serenity unlike any other. I do so adore being out of doors during the winter!” Elizabeth declared.

Again their young guest nodded in agreement, seeming to feel more confident in speaking before the group and on a subject for which she had much to say. “Oh yes,” she smiled, her comfort growing the longer she spoke. “I greatly anticipate the freezing of the pond each year so that we may skate upon it. And when the snow is deep enough, Brother will often ask the grooms to prepare the sleigh and we enjoy sleigh rides about the fields.”

Elizabeth’s smile now becoming one of genuine pleasure as she watched the girl become more animated, she jested, “I fear my abilities in skating are quite on par with those of my riding.” Pausing as Miss Darcy giggled in response to their shared joke, she continuing, “But I do so enjoy walking the footpaths surrounding Longbourn on a winter’s morn.”

“Or ambushing your poor sisters with snowballs when they least expect it,” Mr. Gardiner then quipped, drawing a merry laugh from his wife and niece, as well as another giggle from Miss Darcy.

“I thankfully have not experienced such,” Miss Darcy added, “But I have witnessed a great many snowball battles when our cousin has done the very same to my brother.”

Their gazes then turned to Mr. Darcy as he made a show of rolling his eyes before defending his honor, declaring the matchup unfair given his cousin’s military experience.

“And how is the Colonel, Mr. Darcy? I trust he is well since we were last in company?” Elizabeth then asked, doing her best to ignore the fluttering of her nerves as she dared to reference their time together in Kent.

“He is well,” the gentleman responded, a subtle shift in his attitude marking a sobering of his mood. “He is currently in the south with his regiment.”

Their conversation was then interrupted by a knock at the door, announcing that dinner was ready. Making their way to the dining room, the group settled comfortably around the table, quite similarly to their arrangement in the drawing room moments earlier; the need for formality not necessary with such a small party. As the first course was placed before them, Mr. Gardiner turned to Mr. Darcy, seated beside him, and inquired after that gentleman’s preference for sport and, upon discovering they shared a similar passion for angling, became quite immersed in a discussion centered about their favorite fishing spots and stories of past triumphs as well as disappointments.

The ladies, for their part, were content to leave the men to their fishing stories as they soon discovered their common interest in music, inquiring after Miss Darcy’s preferences for instruments and her favorite selections to play upon each. When Elizabeth lightheartedly declared her performance upon the pianoforte to be far inferior to that of other young ladies, Miss Darcy appeared quite startled to hear as much.

“My brother says you play quite well,” she protested. “I should dearly love to hear you play and sing. My brother has told me he has rarely heard anything that gave him more pleasure.”

Caught off-guard by such a declaration, Elizabeth stumbled briefly, unable to stop herself from casting a glance towards the gentleman himself, seated beside his sister. Apparently unaware of the conversation occurring about him, as he and Mr. Gardiner appeared to have moved on to a discussion concerning books and the recent popularity of several titles, he missed the assortment of looks he received from the ladies; his sister’s one of confusion, Miss Bennet’s of surprise mixed with mortification, and Mrs. Gardiner’s amusement as she dabbed at her mouth with her napkin in an attempt to hide her smile.

Recovering quickly, Elizabeth turned her attention briefly to the plate now being set before her as she forced a smile. “Oh, you shall, I am sure. But I warn you, your brother has grossly exaggerated my talents. No doubt for some mischievous reason of his own!”

“Oh no, that could not be so!” Miss Darcy declared, “My brother never exaggerates; he always tells the absolute truth. Only, sometimes I think he is a little too kind to me…”

“An ideal older brother then,” Elizabeth observed. Then determined to steer the conversation into safer waters, and to spare her own embarrassment as well, she said, “You make me feel quite envious. I have no brothers at all, only four sisters.”

“I should have liked to have a sister.”

“I must say, living in a house with five daughters has certainly tested my mother’s nerves at times,” Elizabeth chuckled and then set about sharing stories of her childhood and the antics five young girls are capable of when growing up on a country manor. By the time the dessert dishes were being placed before them, the table’s conversations had once again come together, and each of the younger members of their party listened in delight and amusement as the Gardiners shared a tale or two of their own children’s hijinks and misadventures.

When at last the ladies rose from their seats, signaling the conclusion of the meal and their withdrawal to the drawing room, the men also stood. Turning to his guest once more, Mr. Gardiner extended an invitation to Mr. Darcy to join him in his study for a glass of port, having assumed that whatever matter the gentleman from Derbyshire had wished to discuss was better saved for the privacy of his office.

With the company parting ways at the bottom of the staircase, Elizabeth and Mrs. Gardiner became rather quiet as they made their way back to the drawing room, each growing increasingly anxious in their curiosity over Mr. Darcy’s business. Miss Darcy, however, appeared unconcerned with the happenings occurring in Mr. Gardiner’s study and instead complimented Mrs. Gardiner on the fineness of her table and expressed her great pleasure in their meal.

Gracious in her acceptance of such praise, Mrs. Gardiner chose to turn her nervous energy on the tea tray, inviting the ladies to take up a cup as they settled close to the fire. Then assuming the conversations normally reserved for the separation of the sexes, the three ladies passed the hour agreeably engaged with discussions of the upcoming Season and the entertainments held therein, as well the latest fashions to be seen about the _Ton_.

*****PnP*****

With the closing of the study door behind him, Mr. Darcy felt at once the dissipation of his good humor. Having passed the dinner engaged in stimulating conversation with his host and enjoying the amiable company of the three ladies, he now lamented the necessity of broaching what he must with Mr. Gardiner. Uncertain as to how his proposal would be received, he could only but pray that the man was truly as well-reasoned as he had supposed.

Accepting the glass of port proffered, Mr. Darcy then followed Mr. Gardiner to the fire and settled comfortably into the relaxed leather cushions of the chairs placed before it. Taking a sip of his wine as he gathered his thoughts, he noted that Mr. Gardiner did not appear the slightest bit inclined to assist with initiating their conversation, leaving that task to his guest.

“Mr. Gardiner,” he began, shifting slightly in his seat so that he could better look upon the man as he spoke. “Pray, forgive my forwardness in seeking this meeting with you, as well as that which I am about to say.” Receiving only but a nod in acknowledgement, Mr. Darcy was then left to push forward with his purpose. “Sir, may I inquire after what has been done to address the issue of Mr. Collins?”

His eyebrows raised in surprise at being asked such a direct and deeply personal question, Mr. Gardiner at first did not respond. As his initial surprise then gave way to stony silence, Mr. Darcy began to grow even further concerned that he may be cast from the residence at any moment, forbidden to ever return again. But refusing to be pressured into saying any more at that moment, the gentleman from Derbyshire held his ground, allowing the tense silence of the room to continue for several moments longer.

Finally, he watched as Mr. Gardiner raised his glass to his lips, taking a sip of his port, before asking in a voice devoid of emotion, “Pray Sir, what business is that of yours?”

“Given his connection with my family, Sir, you surely must recognize that his behavior, and more importantly what is to be done about it, is of great interest to me as well.”

“Ah yes, he was your aunt’s parson,” Mr. Gardiner allowed, but such a realization appeared to him insufficient reasoning for answering the gentleman’s question. “As he is no longer in the employ of your aunt, I see no justification for sharing my family’s most private business with a gentleman whom I have only recently become acquainted.”

“Understandable, Sir. But as you must surely admit, the debauched behavior in which he has recently been engaged cannot be new to him. Therefore I must surely suppose him to have behaved in such a manner during his time at Hunsford.”

Studying Mr. Darcy carefully, Mr. Gardiner allowed a few moments of silence to pass before assuring, “If it is exposure which you fear, Sir, then take heart in my guarantee that I have no intentions of allowing that which he has done to Lizzy to become public. To do so would not only ruin forever my niece, whom I love as if she were my own child, but it would also destroy the prospects for all my nieces. Your family’s reputation is safe from us.”

Feeling his frustration growing, Mr. Darcy took great insult in the insinuation that his interest lay solely with protecting his aunt. “I assure you, Sir, that protection of my family name is not what has motivated me to seek you out on this matter.”

“Then what is your motivation, if I may be so bold, Sir?” Mr. Gardiner demanded, his voice now betraying his own suspicions concerning the gentleman sitting before him.

“I wish to assist in seeing that justice is served for Miss Bennet!” He declared, his own anger momentarily getting the better of him.

“And why may that be? What are you intentions here, Sir?”

The air about them now thick with hostility, the two men once again lapsed into silence, glaring at one another as they would a sworn enemy. One determined to protect his niece at all costs, and the other frustrated in being prevented from doing the very same. As the fire crackled beside them, both refused to stand down in the face of the other’s ire.

It was finally Mr. Darcy’s determination to aid Elizabeth, no matter the cost, which caused him to relent. “Pray Sir, believe me when I say I wish naught but justice for Miss Bennet.” Taking another swill of port, he then explained. “I find it quite improbable that such a deficiency in character could go so wholly unnoticed for as long as he served my aunt. As she is a woman more interested in surrounding herself with those who will do naught but grovel at her feet and extol her virtues, she consistently turns a blind-eye to those behaviors which it is her responsibility to check. I cannot tell you, Mr. Gardiner, how many times I have had to intercede in the business of Rosings, lest I do nothing and the estate be lost to bankruptcy.”

At hearing such a strong declaration against the great Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a slight smile of amusement touched Mr. Gardiner’s lips before he remembered himself and once again settled into an expression of grim disapproval.

“As such, I am certain that the signs of his depraved character must surely have been present during his time as my aunt’s rector, but given her penchant for ignoring such in the face of a devoted sycophant, I believe the responsibility for allowing that man to present himself to the Bennets as a trustworthy parson rests in part with my family. It is a wrong which I intend to right.”

Ending his speech with another sip of port, the room was once again allowed to fall into silence. For his part, Mr. Darcy was quite surprised to find such a rant cathartic on many levels. Years of frustration with his aunt’s bullying ways and poor management of his cousin’s inheritance had combined with his own aggravations at having to suffer the attentions of the slimy parson, coupled then with the great wrong that had been committed against Elizabeth, he no longer felt as keenly the need to be politic when discussing his aunt.

Mr. Gardiner, on the other hand, was giving great consideration to all he had heard and weighing it against all he had learned during his late night conversation with his wife the previous evening. Now convinced that her suspicions were indeed correct, it left him torn on how to proceed. Yes, the assistance of a man such as Mr. Darcy would greatly benefit their plans to answer Mr. Collins, but was it worth further placing his niece in such a precarious position? Her protection, after all, was his utmost concern.

Eventually deciding it would be best to at least hear the gentleman out, he asked, “What do you believe you could contribute to our situation?”

Mr. Darcy’s relief was evident as he responded. “I am prepared to offer all I can to assist you. Pray, will you advise me on what your intentions for him are?”

“Unfortunately at this point we have no set course. I have dispatched a man to Hertfordshire to assess the situation at Longbourn and report back to me on the safety of my sister and the girls, which I received but two days ago. All are safe and there appear to be no current plans to seek employment for the younger girls.”

“The younger girls? What of the eldest Miss Bennet?”

“She is currently in the employ of a family here in Town, serving as a governess to their children and has been for two months now. Her position was indeed real.”

“How is your man gaining access to Longbourn to know as much?”

“Fanny had written to me that their coachman had recently quit their employ, leaving them with no experienced carriage driver to take them about the county. I sent my man with a letter of recommendation and he was hired without question upon his arrival.”

Mr. Darcy hummed in appreciation for Mr. Gardiner’s quick thinking. But his curiosity at hearing of a servant leaving his employment so unexpectedly drove him to ask, “Why would the coachman leave, though?”

“Apparently Mr. Collins runs Longbourn in quite the same manner your aunt runs her estate,” Mr. Gardiner quipped.

Chuckling quietly at the comparison, Mr. Darcy admitted he could understand the similarity. “I too have a man stationed at Rosings who reports back to me on my aunt’s management of the estate. He would be in an opportune position to gather more information concerning Mr. Collins time at Hunsford.”

His demeanor lightening at such a prospect, Mr. Gardiner readily accepted the offer for assistance. Now convinced that Mr. Darcy’s assistance could greatly improve their chances at finding an avenue for justice, he then put forth another question which had been plaguing him. “I shall be very interested to discover how a parson from Kent came to be connected with a woman such as Lizzy has described.” Pausing for a moment, he then turned on Mr. Darcy a most curious gaze. “Pray, Lizzy has refused to share with us the name of the woman who held her. Would you not be able to supply me with this information?”

At this, Mr. Darcy felt his collar tightening and his nerves once again coming alive. What appeared a simple question in its asking indeed placed him in a very uncomfortable position, having to share his intimate knowledge of one of the most unsavory places in all of London. As far as Mr. Darcy was concerned, Mr. Gardiner may as well have asked _‘Pray good Sir, what was the name of madame running the whorehouse which you visited?’_ Swallowing heavily another sip of port, he answered quietly, “I believe her name to be Madame Amelia.”

His discomfort however was short lived as Mr. Gardiner hummed in what almost seemed curious interest before commenting, “Amelia, ‘eh?”

Now feeling increasingly unsettled by the rather pleased expression upon his host’s countenance, Mr. Darcy asked, “Sir?”

“You would be amazed I am sure, Mr. Darcy, to know just how much a tradesman like myself can know about the inner-workings and darker underbelly of London,” he answered cryptically. Then with a slight laugh, he took another sip of his port. After leaving his companion in suspense for another few moments, he then explained, “We among the merchant guild often serve as the creditors to many members of London Society. While I myself have chosen not to engage in such risky financial games, I am still well aware of much that occurs behind the closed doors of public houses and secret gaming halls. If this Amelia is indeed the one of which I have heard so much, she has quite a passion for cards. One which I fear often leaves her quite put out when the night is through.”

If he had not already had Mr. Darcy’s rapt attention, he most certainly did now! “I have another man, still here in town. I will set him to work looking into this Madame Amelia to see if she is indeed the very same.”

“I will see what my man in Kent has to report. Some vice of Mr. Collins surely brought him into contact with this woman.”

Mr. Gardiner hummed in agreement, but as they rested in silence for several moments, each lost to their thoughts concerning the parson and the madame, Mr. Gardiner good mood seemed to wane. After several more moments spent in deep contemplation, he finally shared his concerns with his guest. “I fear for Fanny and the girls having to remain at Longbourn in the interim, but I have little other choice. Fanny wrote to us, requesting to join us for the holidays, but with Lizzy here and still recovering, I do not believe it wise for her to be reunited with the rest of the family yet.”

“I can understand your concern,” Mr. Darcy sympathized. “And there is nowhere else to which they can be sent?”

“No, our family is a small one by now, and I must confess Fanny does not much care for my wife’s sisters, nor would they be able support her and the three girls for any length of time.”

“Perhaps if they were to be sent on holiday?” Mr. Darcy offered, although uncertain as to how such would be achievable without raising suspicion.

“While Fanny and the younger girls would certainly delight in a trip to the seashore – and I have considered as much – I must err on the side of caution. Given my sister’s inability to keep her own counsel, I fear what should befall us if she were to discover the truth of Lizzy’s circumstances. At the very least in Meryton, there is little interaction with Society and therefor limited exposure should the truth be discovered.”

“Perhaps arrangements could be in advance should it be discovered that Mr. Collins is making arrangements to send another of the girls into service?”

“Yes, I believe that to be the best we can do at this point in time. I shall contact my solicitor and have him research properties in some place more secluded should we need to move them quickly.” With a slight quirking of the lips, he added, “I hear Lyme is quite lovely.”

“Yes, I have heard the same,” Mr. Darcy responded, then took another sip of his port before making his next request. “May I ask of you, Sir, that my assistance in this matter be kept between us?”

Sensing the hidden meaning behind the gentleman’s request, Mr. Gardiner shook his head in the negative. “I am afraid not, Sir. My wife and niece shall be made aware of any involvement concerning this matter. Lizzy has suffered too greatly under guises of secrecy and deception; I shall not add to her burden by causing her to doubt her trust in us.” Then turning once more to his companion, he offered, “If these terms are unacceptable to you Mr. Darcy, then you may withdraw your offer for support and I shall release you from your word.”

Struggling with the knowledge that Elizabeth would be made fully aware of his involvement, he questioned only briefly what choice he would make. But knowing he could not live with himself if he did otherwise, he relented and agreed to Mr. Gardiner’s terms.

Raising their glasses in accord, they then finished their port and rose to rejoin the ladies in the drawing room. But before opening the door to the study door, Mr. Gardiner turned to face his guest once more, extending his hand in a show of solidarity, and said, “I thank you, Sir.”

Upon entering the drawing room, the gentlemen were then greeted by the sound of three women laughing, noting that each had turned a rather bright shade of pink as a result of their amusement.

“Ah, I see we have missed all the merriment, Mr. Darcy. I do hope the port was of a fine enough quality to warrant such a sacrifice?” Mr. Gardiner jested, loud enough for the women to notice their arrival.

“I do believe it was, Sir. I thank you.”

“So tell us, what has you three in such a state?” He then asked, coming to stand beside his wife’s chair.

“Oh my dear, tis the business of women. I am certain you gentlemen would find it all so very droll,” she replied, eliciting another round of giggles from Elizabeth and Georgiana, an address which they had recently been invited to use. Then offering the gentlemen tea and cakes, the group returned once more to their places upon the settees and shared another hour or so discussing the approaching holidays as well as the various entertainments to be had about the Town during the approaching Season, a topic for which all in attendance showed a great interest.

When at last the Darcys noted the lateness of the hour and made their farewells, all could not help but agree that theirs had a most pleasurable evening indeed. And with promises to see one another again soon, the Darcys donned their outwear and made their good-byes.

Once the door was closed and only but the Gardiners and Elizabeth remained in the foyer, her uncle turned to her once more and simply said, “Well, I must say never before have I experienced a more fascinating evening than this."


	21. Chapter 21

“Do you believe Richard may be able to attend?” Georgiana asked, her tone hopefully as she perused the assortment of delicacies filling the tray before her. Finally making her selection, she then turned expectant eyes on her brother as he answered.

Swallowing a sip from his coffee cup, Mr. Darcy shook his head in the negative. “Unfortunately, I do not believe we shall see him before the holidays. His latest letter suggests that his duty to his regiment shall demand his attention through the end of the year, at the very earliest.”

Masking her disappointment poorly, she nodded lightly in understanding before taking another sip of tea. The Darcy siblings were seated at the table, breaking their fast and chatting happily, enjoying the simple pleasure of a quiet morning. Having thus far occupied themselves with discussions of their schedules for the day and the return of warmer weather the previous day, they had now turned their attention to the approaching card party to be held by their Fitzwilliam relatives.

“What of Cousin Edward?” She then asked uneasily, secretly hoping that this question would receive a similar response.

“Absolutely not,” her brother declared sharply; his long-standing dislike of the man evident in his tone. “Lady Rebecca has assured me that he shall not be in attendance.”

Her relief at hearing this evident, she then inquired after who else had been invited to attend the casual evening of friends and cards, listening intently as her brother summarized the guest list. While there were several individuals whose names she recognized, there was not one among them to whom she was well acquainted, comprised primarily of distant relatives hailing from the Lady’s side of the family. As her unease surrounding the approaching social engagement once again surfaced, Mr. Darcy did not fail to note the change in her demeanor.

“Pray, worry not, Georgiana,” he entreated. “Lady Rebecca has given great consideration to her selection of guests; your comfort and ease among them being her utmost concern.”

“I am so very thankful for the efforts you and our aunt have undertaken to assist me this Season,” she replied, a vague smile touching her lips as she tried to reassure _him_ of her appreciation for their labours.

Receiving her gratitude with but a slight nod in return, he then raised his coffee cup to his lips once more before attempting to steer their conversation towards a merrier mood, “I shall warn you, however. Be sure not to find yourself in a game of loo with our uncle.” Then pausing briefly as her brow wrinkled in confusion, he quipped, “Lest you wish to owe him what remains of your pin money…”

Gasping first in shock before then sighing in exasperation, she rolled her eyes while popping another bite of plum bread into her mouth. “I shall be sure to pass your remarks on to Uncle Henry when next I see him,” she countered.

But as her brother only smirked in response and claimed, “He would only but agree, my dear,” she abandoned her pretense of insult and chose a new line of conversation, one which she had been wishing to discuss since their pleasant dinner on Gracechurch Street two days prior.

“I do so hope Mrs. Gardiner and Miss Bennet may call today. I shall be so very happy to see them again!” She declared.

“Mmmmm,” her brother hummed in response, quickly becoming focused on his eggs. He, too, eagerly anticipated a visit from the ladies of Gracechurch Street. As the Darcys had now called twice upon the family, and he three, etiquette required them to reciprocate, most likely within the week. Having come upon this realization the morning following their dinner with the family, he had quietly taken aside both Mr. Hawkins and Mrs. Chadwick:

_“I wished to speak with you privately concerning a matter of great delicacy, one of which shall require both your secrecy and understanding.” Waiting as both servants bowed their heads in acknowledgement of the Master’s words, he then continued. “The young lady who… visited Darcy House recently may call upon Miss Darcy within the next several days.”_

_Again he paused, allowing himself a moment to study the reactions of his trusted butler and housekeeper, seeking any insight as to their thoughts concerning this bit of news. But as was customary for the well-disciplined manner of his staff, their expressions failed to betray any thoughts which they did not wish to share._

_“Miss Bennet and Miss Darcy have recently become acquainted and their friendship has been progressing quite agreeably. I do believe it possible we may soon count Miss Bennet and her relatives among our frequent guests._

_“I must stress now how imperative it is that, upon her arrival, there can be no indication that the young lady has ever before visited Darcy House, nor is known by any member of the staff.”_

_“As you wish, Sir,” Mr. Hawkins replied; Mrs. Chadwick seconding his sentiment with a quick bob of her head. Then bowing in respect as they were dismissed, the master was left with little doubt his wishes would be strictly adhered to by every member of the household staff. Feeling relieved to know Miss Bennet’s welcome at Darcy House would once again be attuned to ensuring her comfort, he had quietly set about using the remainder of his morning strategizing his own response when the young miss and her aunt would indeed come to call._

“Do you not agree?”

“Pardon?” Startled to discover he had allowed his attention to slip yet again, a habit which was quickly becoming more and more difficult to account for, he looked up from his eggs to find his sister looking at him expectantly, awaiting an answer to a question he had not actually heard.

“The Gardiners,” she repeated, “do you not agree they were excellent hosts? I cannot remember a dinner I have enjoyed more.”

“Yes, I find I quite agree. It pleases me greatly to hear you took such delight in the company of the ladies.”

“Oh yes, they were indeed very kind to me,” she gushed, her smile happy and bright as she spoke. “We, the three of us, all share such similar tastes in literature we could have conversed for hours on poets alone! And despite Elizabeth’s insistence that she plays the pianoforte poorly, she does seem to admire music greatly!”

Caught unawares by the sound of Elizabeth’s name spoken so freely, he faltered for a moment in refilling his coffee cup, splashing a fair amount of the dark brew on the tablecloth before regaining control of his hands. Relieved to see his sister was too preoccupied with her plate to notice, he quickly covered his faux pas by returning the pot to the table in such a way as to block the stain from her sight.

The rest of Georgiana’s observations on the Gardiners and Miss Bennet was cut short, however, by the quiet sound of the breakfast room door opening, drawing the attention of both brother and sister. Allowing their conversation to lull, they observed Mr. Hawkins’ approach, a silver salver bearing the morning post in his hands. With letters being presented to both the master and young miss, they shuffled quietly through their respective correspondences until one in particular caught Mr. Darcy’s eye. Resting in his hands was a letter bearing the unmistakable hand and family seal of his childhood friend James Pierce, the Lord of Ashbourne. Quickly finished the remainder of his coffee, he then rose to his feet, begging Georgiana’s pardon, “Pray, forgive me for leaving you so, but there is a matter to which I must attend.”

“Of course,” she responded, failing to fully mask her concern at the sudden urgency in her brother’s manner.

Making his way as quickly, yet dignified as his long stride could carry him, Mr. Darcy retreated to his study, the stack of correspondences clasped tightly in his hand. Allowing the door to swing closed behind him as he made his way to his desk, he wasted little time in settling into his chair and breaking the seal on his friend’s letter, devouring its contents quickly.

_Perthshire, Scotland  
November 1, 1811_

_Darcy,_

_Pray, allow me to express my deepest gratitude for your letter. It was indeed a great relief to receive such words of support and understanding in our time of great humiliation. And if I must be honest, great anger as well. I fear I must confirm the ugly rumors now weighing heavily upon my family: ‘tis true. That which is most certainly fueling the drawing room gossip and club chatter about Ton is true._

_My wife of these three years past, whom I have loved and cherished beyond all I believed to be possible, has deceived me greatly. I know not how long the affair has been allowed to continue without my knowledge, but it surely was of a long enough duration to convince her to abandon our marriage and return to Spain with her lover. She left our home that very morning, stating her intentions to visit the modiste, but never returned. It was only late in the evening when her maid delivered her letter to me, declaring that she would not be returning and professing her love for another. When I questioned her maid, the full truth of the matter was confessed._

_I know not how to comfort Reggie, who still seeks his mother’s attentions each day. Although she never demonstrated a strong desire to tend to him, he simply adored her regardless. His nurse and the maids, I fear, fare poorly with comforting him when he so demands his mother’s presence, a demand that can never again be met. We all find ourselves at our wit’s end as he cannot be consoled._

_Added to all this still, I have, since discovering her deception, come to understand the Spaniard to be far from the first with whom she shared her affections during our courtship and marriage. What a fool I have been, Darcy! Far too blinded by my own devotion to her to see her for who she truly was. But now I am left to bear not only the agony of her betrayal, but the censure and ridicule of our peers as well._

_It was my hope that in retreating to Cavendish Manor that I would be able to find some small measure of peace, some relief from the humiliation, but it is simply not to be had. Even when surrounded by only my staff, who know every sordid detail of our failed marriage, it has become too much to bear. While they have all been so very attentive to my son and I at this time, I can still see the pity in their eyes whenever I look upon them. But as I have nowhere else to go, no sanctuary to which I can retreat where my shame is not know, I am cursed to bear the burden of our disgrace for years to come._

_Again, I must express my deepest appreciation for your support at this time. Many of those to be found about me in better days distanced themselves rather quickly once the scandal came to light. As tried and true a friend as always you are, Darcy. I thank you._

_Your servant,  
James_

Reading through the missive a second time, Mr. Darcy slowly dropped the letter to his desk, his concern for his friend growing. A man of upstanding character and amiable disposition, James Pearce and Fitzwilliam Darcy had become fast friends as children, spending long summers romping through the wilds of Derbyshire; a friendship which had remained strong through their growth into adulthood. Although the demands of their respective estates and families had limited the opportunity for being in one another’s company, their steady correspondence over the years had served to preserve the friendship. As such, Mr. Darcy’s interactions with Lady Ashbourne had been relatively limited to but two or three meetings during the couple’s courtship and marriage. And although not particularly fond of his friend’s wife, he had not thought her character so weak nor so deceitful as to have engaged in such behavior.

However, the gossip now being bandied about at White’s and his fencing club only confirmed her faithlessness. Her name, now associated with those of three other men, none of whom have felt the inclination to deny their dalliances with the lady, is forever tarnished. And as such, so is her husband’s. For what man could have so little command over his own house as to allow his wife to carry on numerous infidelities without his knowledge?

Rising from his desk, Mr. Darcy began his usual pace about the room, a path often walked when faced with a problem he could not easily resolve. The struggles now faced by his longtime friend concerned him exceedingly; the tone of James’ letter only furthering his worries. Added to this still was his ever-increasing disquiet in regards to Bingley’s sudden engagement, a situation which only left him with mounting concerns the more he thought about it. And of course foremost in his thoughts, the future safety and well-being of Elizabeth Bennet. How had the lives of those about him become so complicated, so tumultuous? And worse still was the impotence he felt at being so very limited in his ability to assist them.

His path of pacing finally brought him to a halt before the window, where the colorful swish of a lady’s skirt caught his attention, pulling him from the darkness of his thoughts as he watched it glide gracefully along the steps leading up to his home. Moving closer to the sill in an attempt to determine the identity of its owner, he was disappointed to discover she had already moved beneath the portico sheltering his front door, obscuring her from the view offered by his study window.

_Elizabeth!_

Crossing quickly to the mirror beside his study door, he took a moment to compose himself, eyeing his reflection with meticulous scrutiny as he made slight adjustments to his cravat and straightened his waistcoat. His curls required a few moments more, having become mussed at some point during his quiet deliberations but of when he could not be certain. Finally pressing them once more into submission, he gave another cursory glance to his cravat before deeming himself once again ready for the charming company of Miss Elizabeth Bennet.

Knowing Mr. Hawkins would soon be knocking at his door, he retreated to his desk and busied himself with appearing occupied, dispelling any suspicions that he was in all actuality impatiently awaiting the announcement of their guest. It was the established procedure among the household staff that Mr. Darcy was to be alerted to all of his sister’s callers, a measure put into place following the incident at Ramsgate in an attempt to further protect Georgiana from undesirable acquaintances.

When at last Mr. Hawkins requested entry, he was granted it at once. “Miss Darcy is receiving callers in the morning room, Sir.”

Feigning ignorance of this news, for it would not do to appear too eager for the company of a young lady, whoever she may be, he responded, “I see.”

“Miss Bingley and two young ladies with whom I am unfamiliar. A Miss Parham and a Miss Wyndham, Sir.” If the old butler noticed the rather obvious deflation of the master’s good mood, he gave no indication as to such.

“Ah, yes,” he replied, striving to cover the disappointment he felt at hearing their callers were not the ladies for whom he had been waiting. Returning his attention to the papers in his hand, he addressed the unasked question for which he knew Mr. Hawkins was awaiting an answer. “We have recently made the acquaintance of Miss Parham and Miss Wyndham, and as any friend of Mr. Bingley, they are welcome at Darcy House.”

“Very good, Sir.”

As the door closed behind the retreating butler, Mr. Darcy found himself facing an entirely new dilemma. Disappointed to learn that the visitors currently sitting in his morning room were three people whom he had absolutely no desire to see, he considered briefly the possibility of remaining in his study until the time came for their departure. After all, etiquette certainly did not require him to attend to his sister’s callers. However, the knowledge that these callers were as equally distressing for Georgiana as they were for him would not allow his conscience peace. Finally resolving himself to a quarter hour of mindless chatter and unwelcome flirtations, he rose from his chair and unhurriedly made his way towards the morning room; his ears assaulted by the shrill sound of Miss Bingley’s voice as he entered.

“Charles was so very disappointed at being unable to join us today,” she was saying, “for he so enjoys our visits to Darcy House.”

Stuttering slightly in her receipt of the compliment, it was blatantly obvious that Mr. Darcy had indeed been correct in his assumptions: Georgiana was in desperate need of his assistance. Closing the door behind him loudly enough to announce his arrival, he bowed in greeting to the ladies assembled.

“Mr. Darcy!” Miss Parham exclaimed, making no attempt to disguise her delight at his unexpected appearance. “How very good to see you again, Sir,” she then cooed, adding a slight fluttering of her eyelashes for good measure.

“Oh yes,” Miss Bingley countered, her tone frigid as she addressed her cousin, “Mr. Darcy always attends our calls when he is at home; is that not so, Sir?”

Choosing to ignore the implications of her statement, Mr. Darcy remained silent as he moved to stand beside Georgiana’s chair, hoping his presence could help ease her discomfort. Determined to change the course of their conversation before it went too far, he instead asked, “I trust all is well with Mr. Bingley?”

“Yes, he merely had some matters of business which required his attention this morning, and then we are all to the theater this evening.” Then feigning the striking of a brilliant thought, she exclaimed, “Oh! We would be delighted if you were to join us as well!”

Polite in his refusal, though by no means feeling so very generous in truth, Mr. Darcy answered, “We thank you for the invitation, madam; however we are already engaged for the evening.”

“Of course, we understand.” Miss Parham interjected, directing her words towards Georgiana while her gaze was most decidedly settled elsewhere. “Tis a pity though that we shall not be able to enjoy your company this evening, Miss Darcy.”

“A shame indeed,” Miss Bingley now interrupted, her intentions clear as she sought to regain the gentleman’s attention. Effusive in her praise, she posited, “For this production is said to be absolutely breath-taking, and I imagine simply divine from the seats in your box. Oh, how many productions we have been blessed to view from it! A true pleasure!”

“Yes, I have heard such fantastic reviews as to make me quite excited for tonight’s performance,” Miss Wyndham unexpectedly interceded, drawing the attention of the room to herself. Observing the light flushing of her cheeks, Mr. Darcy could easily discern the embarrassment she was clearly feeling, undoubtedly the result of her friends’ behavior. “Have you had the chance yet this season, Miss Darcy, to visit the theater?”

“N-n-n-no,” she again stuttered, and from his position beside her, her brother could hear her take a slow breath as she sought to conquer her nerves. “I do not often attend the theater.”

Undeterred by the shy nature of her host, Miss Wyndham smiled kindly as she continued, “I am a great admirer of the theater and do miss it so when I am in the north.”

“Yes, there is sadly little entertainment to be had away from London.” That Mr. Darcy did not roll his eyes at Miss Bingley’s renewed attempt to dominate the room required a great deal of self-restraint, a battle which he felt fairly close to losing.

“However, I am certain Newcastle must be delightful as well!” she then exclaimed, her pandering ways now turned upon Miss Wyndham. “I have no doubt summers at Locksley will be far more pleasurable than those of Hertfordshire.”

“Did you not care for Hertfordshire, Miss Bingley?”

All eyes turned at once to Miss Darcy, who wore an expression of such confusion as to cause Mr. Darcy’s breath to seize within his chest, his apprehension growing by the second as he feared what she may unwittingly divulge to the spiteful Miss Bingley.

“Oh my dear Georgiana, such a dreadful place! Among the worst in all of England, I am sure! The people so uncouth; their manners lacking in grace and refinement! Be most thankful you were not made to travel to that backwater by your brother as I was by mine.” Then turning her coquettish gaze again to Mr. Darcy, she simpered, “Such the caring older brother that he is.”

“I did not think Hertfordshire so bad as this; Mr. Bingley has always spoken so highly of it,” Miss Wyndham observed.

“Oh, no! Believe me, Joscelin, our time at Netherfield was terrible indeed! I would say among the most trying of my life! The society is little more than farmers and country gentlemen, each filled with an over-inflated sense of their own importance. And their manners! While Charles finds country manners charming, I must disagree most heartily. For the ladies are as vain as the gentlemen, believing themselves equal to the sophistication of the Ton while lacking in every respect that marks a proper lady of true accomplishment.”

Having now gained the undivided attention of the room, Miss Bingley’s demeanor became increasingly hubristic as she prattled on, “I was so very happy when we succeeded in convincing Charles to remain in Town and to finally let the place go altogether. I am quite certain no one of any true status or importance had ever set foot in Meryton before we arrived, and surely no one will again now that we have left; would you not agree, Mr. Darcy?”

Now all eyes turned to the gentleman, who still stood stoically beside his sister’s chair; his expression betraying his obvious displeasure with the turn their conversation had taken. Again it was Miss Wyndham who intervened, most assuredly realizing that if she did not Caroline would continue in this vein regardless of their host’s displeasure. Returning the conversation to the entertainments to be had in London, the small party managed to conclude the customary quarter hour without further unpleasant comments from Miss Bingley.

Rising to her feet, Miss Wyndham was the first to bid her host farewell. “We thank you for your hospitality, Miss Darcy,” she said, smiling kindly as she took her leave of the Darcys.

“We simply must dine together again soon, Georgiana!” Miss Bingley declared as she too rose to take her leave. That neither Darcy responded, however, was lost upon her as she moved towards the door. “I shall speak with Louisa and Charles at once to make arrangements.”

“I do so look forward to that!” Miss Parham added, casting a flirting glance in the direction of the gentleman as she did so.

With those parting words, the door to the morning room closed and silence quickly filled the vacuum left in the wake of their visitors. Georgiana quietly resumed her seat as her brother made his way towards the window to watch the street below, almost as if to reassure himself that the three women did in fact leave. Once able to confirm their departure from his home, he then returned his attention to his sister and inquired after her well-being following their most trying call.

“I must admit to being rather confused by Miss Bingley’s sentiments,” she confessed, turning her eyes on her clasped hands as she nervously worried her lower lip.

“Pray, do not grant any measure of truth to Miss Bingley’s words. As you can see, she cared little for Hertfordshire as she much prefers Ton to the country.”

“But how can she describe the ladies of Hertfordshire so? Are she and Miss Bennet not friends?”

Sighing deeply, Mr. Darcy grappled with finding an explanation to account for Miss Bingley’s bitter words; words undoubtedly selected as an outlet for her intense jealousy and dislike of one Hertfordshire lady in particular: Miss Elizabeth Bennet. If he were to be honest with himself, it had been unrealistic of him to believe a friendship with Elizabeth would not eventually bring about questions concerning his time in Hertfordshire. Especially so as the Bingleys and Hursts were friends with whom they were often in company. It seemed the time for just such conversations had finally arrived.

“As I am sure you are able to deduce,” he began, “Miss Bennet and Miss Bingley are of rather… different dispositions.” Pausing as she nodded in agreement, he proceeded carefully in the selection of his next words. “Rather opposite dispositions, in truth. Forgive me for being so candid, but I believe I am not mistaken in declaring Miss Bennet’s company to be far more… pleasant than that of Miss Bingley?” Again he waited as she nodded in accord. “As such, Miss Bingley did not fail to notice my preference for Miss Bennet’s company.”

“Oh!” she gasped after a few moments; the realization of what he was implying suddenly becoming quite clear. “So Miss Bingley does not like Miss Bennet?”

“No, she does not.”

Taking a deep breath of her own, Georgiana released it in a rush as she cried, “Oh thank goodness!”

“Pardon?”

Seeing his surprise at her unladylike outburst, she was quick to clarify the reason behind it. “I had very nearly mentioned meeting Miss Bennet! I had thought she would be pleased to hear of our recent acquaintance and dinner. I am so very happy that I did not!”

Letting out his own sigh of relief, he confessed his own concerns that she would do just that. “I must admit to having been worried about that as well!”

With their confessions quickly dispelling the last of the tension that had lingered between them, Georgiana allowed a small laugh to escape her as she declared, “Fear not, Brother, for now I shall be certain not to make mention of Elizabeth when next in Miss Bingley’s company.”

“I thank you for that!” He jested. But after another few moments of silence, his gaiety seemed to sober as he approached the chair in which she was seated. “I see now that I should have shared this information with you sooner. Pray, forgive me my negligence, for placing you in such a difficult situation.”

But as she declared forgiveness unnecessary, the siblings were able to part ways amicably; his sister retiring to the music room to practice the latest piece she was learning on the harp and he to his study to attend to business matters. Settling once more at his desk, his lightened mood faded as James’ letter still sat open before him. Reading through it for the now fourth time in the past hour, one sentence in particular now caught his interest: _But as I have nowhere else to go, no sanctuary to which I can retreat where my shame is not known…_ And after another half hour or so of pondering upon his friend’s dilemma, he was suddenly moved to take up his pen and pull from the drawer a fresh sheet of paper.

*****PnP*****

The sun was shining brightly and the breeze held only but a slight chill that morning as the Gardiner carriage rolled through the busy streets of London, conveying Mrs. Gardiner and her niece towards the row of ladies’ shops often frequented by the wives of well-to-do merchants. The two sat in companionable silence, observing quietly the passing store fronts and countless shoppers milling about, taking advantage of what was sure to be one of the few remaining days of pleasant weather ahead of the winter months.

However, as they rode along, safely ensconced within the security of the carriage, Elizabeth was struggling against the shaking of her hands and the tightness settling within her breast. Attempting to calm herself with silent reassurances that the people she feared most were unlikely to travel into this part of the city, she still failed to quell the panic that had taken ahold of her. Try as she might, she simply could not stop herself from scanning the passing crowds, searching for faces which she may recognize; faces which haunted her dreams nightly and had rendered restful sleep no longer possible.

Jumping when she felt a hand take her own, she turned quickly to find her aunt was watching her closely; her brow creased with worry while her eyes filled with sympathy, clearly well aware of the struggle with which her niece was battling. “Be brave, my dear. We are almost there.”

Nodding, she drew a deep breath and closed her eyes tightly as she released it slowly, willing herself to remember that she was no longer alone and need not fear a return to the brutality from which she had so recently escaped. Her aunt and uncle had taken several precautions to assure her of such, insisting on using the carriage to transport them the short distance between Gracechurch Street and the modiste and assigning an additional footman to accompany them on their outing. Her aunt had also assured her their excursion would be confined to the dress shop, therefore ensuring Elizabeth’s reemergence into society was short in duration and limited in scope; all three equally worried about pushing her too far too soon.

Feeling the carriage slow to a halt, she drew another deep breath before turning to her aunt and smiling faintly, a signal she was ready to take her first step back into the world. And as the carriage door was opened and the steps lowered, Mrs. Gardiner gave Elizabeth’s hand another gentle squeeze of encouragement before turning and accepting the footman’s assistance as she stepped from the carriage.

As Elizabeth’s feet touched the pavement, she was relieved to see the carriage had been able to deliver them directly to the door of the modiste’s shop. With but a few steps, they were greeted by the tinkling of a bell as the door opened and the familiar sight of Mrs. Dowery, fussing with the draping of an evening gown current on display in the shop window. Looking up from her work at the ringing of the bell, the plump face of the old modiste lit with delight as she greeted two of her favorite customers.

“Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet! How very good it is to see you again!”

“Mrs. Dowery, we are so pleased to see you again as well. I trust you received my note?”

“But of course! I have set aside the entirety of my morning for you, Miss Bennet. Pray, follow me.”

The three women then retreated to a private room at the back of the shop, where Mrs. Dowery had arranged for more privacy. With Mrs. Gardiner settling at the small table and beginning to flip through the fashion plates, Elizabeth stepped behind the dressing screen to remove her gown before then mounting the stool for her measuring. Certain the old dressmaker, whom Elizabeth had been visiting since she was but twelve years old, was able to discern the dramatic changes in her health and weight, she found herself holding her breath as she awaited comments on the alterations to her appearance. However, it soon became clear the older woman had chosen not to comment as she instead occupied herself with insignificant chit-chat while she worked, allowing her customer a quiet sigh of relief.

That relief though was to be short-lived; for when asked to raise her arms and hold them straight out at shoulder height for several minutes, she found her body began to tremble. Although a couple of weeks had passed since the injury to her side and the pain had improved considerably, it was still not fully healed, and holding this position was becoming increasingly painful with each passing moment. But again, the modiste neglected to comment on the noticeable quiver in her client and instead focused on finished the task as quickly as she could.

Releasing an audible sigh of relief when allowed to lower her arms, she was pleased to find the rest of the measuring to be far more tolerable. When finished at last, she once again donned her gown and joined her aunt, who had already selected several designs she believed her niece would find best suited to her style and modesty. After several lengthy debates concerning which styles were fitted best to Elizabeth’s figure and use, they selected three patterns; one of which would be made immediately using a peach muslin the modiste kept in stock, and the other two of fabrics which would soon be sent from Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse.

After apologizing once more to the modiste for asking her to finish the first gown within a matter of days and receiving reassurances from Mrs. Dowery that it was no trouble for her favorite clients, Mrs. Gardiner and Elizabeth exited the shop and signaled for Lawrence to fetch the carriage. “I was thinking of possibly inviting Miss Darcy to join us on our excursion to the warehouse,” Mrs. Gardiner was saying as she adjusted her gloves and retied the ribbons securing her bonnet. “I believe she would very much enjoy helping you shop for muslin. Would you not agree, Lizzy?”

Although Elizabeth could hear her aunt’s voice, she knew not what had been said. For the thundering of her heart was filling her ears, drowning out the sounds about her, while her lungs struggled for breath. The crowd surrounding them as they stood waiting for the carriage quickly overwhelmed her senses, and when a particularly tall gentleman crossed directly before her, she jumped in surprise and took an involuntary step back, causing her to bump into the wall behind her.

“Lizzy?”

Lowering her head, the sight of those moving about her was obscured by the brim of her bonnet, allowing her eyes to focus on the pavement beneath her feet. Using the diversion as a chance to regain control of her composure, she forced her lips to once again draw a deep breath, repeating the action several times over until she could feel the beat of her heart begin to slow.

Humiliated by her reaction to the passing of a stranger, she silently berated herself for being so missish. If this is how she was to react when passing a simple stranger on the street, how was she to ever rejoin the world at large? No. She would overcome this. She would!

An expression of determination now firmly in place, she raised her head and turned to her aunt, apologizing. “Pray, forgive my inattention. You were saying?”

There was no mistaking the concern filling her aunt’s eyes as she examined her niece, but after a few moments appeared to decide against asking the question still written plainly upon her face. Instead she repeated her question.

“Oh yes, I do believe she would enjoy that very much. If Mr. Darcy is agreeable to such, of course.”

Any further conversation on the matter, however, was halted by the arrival of the carriage. As they settled inside and their privacy was once again restored, Mrs. Gardiner immediately inquired after Elizabeth’s well-being.

“I am well,” she insisted, wishing to spare her aunt any undue concern. “I was just feeling a bit overwhelmed for a moment.”

“Lizzy-”

“No,” she interrupted. “No, I will be well. All will be well.” Then taking another deep breath, she turned to the troubled visage of Aunt Madeline and forced the slightest of smiles to her lips. Her tone growing softer, she repeated her aunt’s sentiments, “All will be well. I have faith.”

Mrs. Gardiner could not help but return her niece’s smile, and although her worries were far from settled by Elizabeth’s show of strength and determination, she allowed the matter to drop and took up once more their discussion of the young Miss Darcy. “As Mrs. Dowery assures us she shall have little trouble completing your gown by Saturday, I believe we shall plan our call upon Miss Darcy for Monday.”

Faltering slightly in her response, Elizabeth protested, “I-I… do not believe it would be wise for me to accompany you on your call.”

“Why ever not, my dear?” But with one telling look from her niece, the reason for Elizabeth’s protests became all too clear. “Of course, how thoughtless of me not to realize such. Very well then, I shall call on Miss Darcy and invite her to join us. If Mr. Darcy is agreeable, of course.”

Their conversation then turned to the modiste’s shop and the gowns that had been chosen, and before much longer the carriage arrived at the Gardner’s door. As the two women stood in the foyer, divesting themselves of their outerwear, Mrs. Gardiner listened attentively as her housekeeper summarized the happenings about the house while they were away, happily reporting that the children were currently settled in their play abovestairs.

Thanking Mrs. Morris and dismissing her to return to her duties, the two women walked towards the stairs, “I am pleased to hear they have not given Nurse White too much trouble during our absence. They can be quite-” Abruptly, Mrs. Gardiner abandoned her sentence as she faltered in her step, grasping tightly the railing beside her.

“Aunt?” Elizabeth gasped, reaching out to lend her support as her aunt stood frozen upon the third step, her eyes closed and her free hand raised to her forehead. “You are unwell.”

“No, no,” she protested faintly, opening her eyes after a couple of steady breaths. “No, I am well, Lizzy. Please do not worry so.”

“No, you are not well,” Elizabeth whispered urgently, mindful that anyone could be within earshot. “I have now, on several occasions, been given to worry. Pray, will you not tell me what is wrong?”

“There is nothing wrong. Come,” she bid, carefully descending the few steps they had taken and moving towards the morning room; Elizabeth close at her side lest she stumble again. Once the door was closed, she encouraged her niece to take a seat beside her, settling them on the chaise beside the window, which her aunt had opened to allow a cool breeze.

“Pray, know that your uncle and I did not wish to worry you, for it is of the utmost important that you focus your energies on regaining your strength. It was our intention to share our news with you once you had returned to full health.” Seeing that her words were only furthering Elizabeth’s concern, she sought to reassure her. Her smile growing wide and glowing, she leaned forward to take her niece’s hand. “Lizzy, it is only the best of news! For I am quite confident that we shall soon be welcoming a new member to our family.”

Gasping, Elizabeth’s hands flew to lips, her eyes wide in their surprise. Then bursting forth in her joy, she reached for her aunt, hugging her tightly despite the pain it caused in her side. “Oh, I am so very happy for you!”

Returning the embrace with equal enthusiasm, Mrs. Gardiner also laughed merrily as she expressed her appreciation for her niece’s congratulations, pleased to finally be able to share her joyous news. As they pulled away, she answered as best she could the peppering of questions she received. The babe was expected to arrive in May, an estimate with which Mr. Hodgson had agreed, having suspected as much after quietly observing her during his follow-up visit with Elizabeth. Having already borne four children, she had recognized the early symptoms with little difficulty, and upon sharing her suspicions with her husband was pleased to find him as excited by the prospect as she. And although they could not truly confirm the pregnancy for sure until the quickening, at which point the news could be shared with the rest of the family, she was certain that she was indeed with child.

“This is such wonderful news, Aunt. Oh, I am so very, very happy for you both!”

Elizabeth then watched as her aunt, now positively glowing in her joyfulness, rose from the couch and announced that the light-headedness, which was not uncommon during this time, had passed. Inviting her niece to join her in visiting the nursery, the invitation was readily accepted and the remainder of their day passed pleasantly, filled with games in the nursery followed by a peaceful afternoon of reading in the drawing room.

When Mr. Gardiner returned in the evening to discover their news had now been shared, his relief at no longer having to maintain such a secret was palpable. Delighted to hear of Elizabeth’s enthusiastic response to the revelation, he had made no attempt to hide his own pleasure at the knowledge that his family, whom meant the world to him, was soon to include one more. All of which lent an air of celebration to their dinner table that evening, even if no one made reference as to its cause.

It was only later in the evening, when Elizabeth had retired to her bed that the full implications of her aunt’s condition began to settle upon her. At first, she had not given but a passing thought to her aunt’s comment concerning her welfare, having quickly been overcome with the elation of hearing the Gardiner’s good news. But now, as she lay in the dark, those words returned to her: Pray, know that your uncle and I did not wish to worry you. And as she now began to realize, there very much was cause for concern.

It was with Herculean strength that Elizabeth had fought to keep her fears for the future at bay. Although the questions of what would happen to her in the coming months, and even more so in the coming years, were never far from her thoughts, she had not allowed them to overwhelm her as they had in those early days following her rescue. But by no measure a fool nor ignorant to the realities of life, she knew that the time would eventually come for her to find her way in the world. Unable to return to Longbourn and unwilling to burden her uncle, she had accepted the inevitability of having to find a position from which she could make her living. But as to when this next step would become necessary, she was not yet sure. However, lying there in the quiet solitude of her bed chamber and left alone to ponder on these questions, the answer had now become so very clear: immediately.

Or rather as soon as she was physically capable, as her trip to the modiste had made a point to remind her. No, the Gardiners were too good to ever wish her to leave, and indeed she was certain they would do all they could to dissuade her from such, but she could not in good conscience burden them further. Already her uncle had extended funds, how much she knew not, to pursue a path for answering Mr. Collins, as well as paying for the purchase of new gowns and other such items of which she was in need; funds which should be settled upon the care of his family and their new child. Yes, Mr. Gardiner was very successful in his business, so much so that his wife and children need not be concerned with hedgerows and living on the charity of others, but even that combined with the assistance of Mr. Darcy, it was still too much.

_Mr. Darcy._ At once the mere thought of the gentleman arrested her attention, forcing her mind to return to their evening with the Darcys.

_“I shall not keep you both in suspense,” Mr. Gardiner announced as soon as he had closed the drawing room door. With the ladies standing before him, their expressions a mix of eagerness and apprehension, he simply said, “Mr. Darcy has offered his support in addressing Mr. Collins, and I have accepted.”_

_Their expressions now shifting to one of surprise, his wife was the first to find her voice, “How does he intend to do so?”_

_“Come, let us sit.” Once the ladies were settled, he set about summarizing his meeting with the gentleman, explaining Mr. Darcy’s reasons for wishing to assist and his belief that his family was in part to blame._

_“But that is preposterous!” Elizabeth protested loudly. “He is not responsible for the failures of his aunt. Just as we are not responsible for the actions of Mr. Collins!”_

_“Nevertheless, he feels it is his responsibility to right to the wrongs created in the wake of his aunt’s negligence.”_

_“But-”_

_“And I do believe his assistance to be invaluable in helping us find our way through this quagmire brought upon us by Mr. Collins’ deception.” Now turning his attention fully upon his niece, Mr. Gardiner’s tone softened as he continued. “Lizzy, Mr. Darcy’s position is far more advantageous than mine for investigating Mr. Collins’ time in Kent. This is why I have accepted his offer._

_“However,” here he paused to catch her eye, as her gaze had drifted from his in her embarrassment. “If you do not wish for Mr. Darcy to be involved, I will release him from his word and request he leave the matter altogether.”_

_But while every fiber of her being seemed to scream out in protest, commanding her to reject Mr. Darcy’s assistance, her reason called for a moment to consider her uncle’s words. After several moments of silence, the question hanging heavily in the air between them, she finally returned her eyes to his and asked, “Do you truly believe his involvement to be necessary?”_

_“I cannot know for sure; for only time will truly tell. I have only my own instincts to guide me, and they are telling me to do so.”_

_Turning then to her aunt, she listened intently as she seconded her husband’s opinion. “I too believe our cause may be furthered by accepting his help. In the brief time which I have known him, I believe him to be sincere in his wishes to see that justice is served.”_

_The room again fell silent as Elizabeth considered all she had heard, and at last she begrudgingly admitted to herself that they were, of course, correct. Finally relenting, she nodded slowly in agreement._

The acceptance of his involvement had been difficult for Elizabeth to accept, and indeed she was still struggling with her agreement to the scheme. In truth, the desire to see justice served for that which had been done to her was dwindling with each passing day, being replaced with a stronger and stronger wish to be free from it all. No, it was no longer justice for herself she sought, but the securing of her mothers and sisters’ safety that now motivated her. Yes, Mr. Collins needed to be answered, but it must be done in seeking protection for her family. It was ultimately for them that she had accepted Mr. Darcy’s assistance. If his connections could help bring about an end to her cousin’s detestable behavior, then her discomfort, her continuing humiliation would be but a minor sacrifice.

*****PnP*****

Despite the chill in the air, Mr. Darcy was finding his morning stroll about Berkeley Square Park quite refreshing. With the warmth of the morning sun shining upon him and his coat lapels pulled close about his collar, the cold dampness of the previous night’s rain did little to dampen his good mood. In fact, he was quite certain there was little that could that morning, as he quietly reflected on the very great success of Lady Matlock’s card party two nights prior. Or rather his sister’s success, which despite his reassurances to her beforehand, he had not been nearly as confident as he had appeared.

Like himself, Georgiana tended to heavily favor the quiet side of her nature when in crowds, especially among those comprised of people with whom she was not acquainted. He had been deeply concerned that she would not find comfort among Lady Rebecca’s guests, most of whom were members of her mother’s side of the family. But he was soon proven correct in his decision to trust his aunt’s judgement when it came to organizing such a soiree.

At first, Georgiana had been particularly shy, staying close to her aunt as she was shepherded about the room and introduced to various members of their very distant family. As the evening progressed, however, she seemed to find some measure of comfort with the other young ladies assembled and became increasingly engaged in the conversations happening about her. She had even managed to best her uncle in a few rounds of loo after accidentally finding herself at a table with him. Although, to be honest, Mr. Darcy still had his suspicions concerning just how easily his uncle had folded on several hands.

His night had not gone completely without concern, though. He noted there were more than one or two of their distant cousins, male cousins, who seemed to take a particular interest in his sister, failing in their attempt to discretely gather more information about her in their conversations with him. Though at the time he had made a point of barely masking his displeasure with their questions, he had begrudgingly been forced to admit later that he needed to practice at doing just that. After all, finding a husband was the whole point of her coming out next year. Such a resignation, however, did little to lighten his mood even now as he kicked rather forcefully at an innocent pebble lying in the path.

Another burst of cold air whipped through the trees about him, unsettling his beaver and forcing him to react quickly in order to resettle it before it could be lost to the wind. It was then that he noticed the chill in the air had finally seeped through his many layers of coats, signaling it was time to return home. As always, Mr. Hawkins was on-hand to assist with his outerwear as entered the foyer, and as he passed off his cane and hat, he was surprised to hear that his sister was currently entertaining a caller in the morning room. Concerned that Miss Bingley had followed through on her threat of inviting them to dinner, he inquired after who was there.

“A Mrs. Gardiner, Sir.”

This bit of news caused him to pause in the midst of removing his coat. “Mrs. Gardiner?”

“Yes, Sir,” and already sensing what his master was thinking, he added, “ _She_ arrived but a few minutes ago.” His subtle stressing of the singular answering the unasked question.

Shedding his overcoat, Mr. Darcy dismissed his butler and made his way towards the morning room, his curiosity getting the better of him. Entering he was concerned to see Georgiana frowning slightly at whatever Mrs. Gardiner had just said, but as his entrance was noticed at once, he had to wait until the proper greetings had been exchanged and everyone resumed their seats before he could learn of what they were speaking.

“I do hope she shall feel better soon,” Georgiana offered.

“I am sure she shall.” Turning then to Mr. Darcy, Mrs. Gardiner explained, “I wished to apologize for my niece, who was quiet disappointed at being unable to join me today. She woke this morning with a terrible headache.”

“Of-” he began, but had to stop to clear his throat quietly, his voice having suddenly grown hoarse. “Of course, we understand such cannot be helped.”

Mrs. Gardiner thanked them for their well wishes, promising to pass them along to Elizabeth upon her return, before then broaching the reason for her call. “Elizabeth and I were wondering if you might be interested in joining us tomorrow, Miss Darcy. We shall be visiting Mr. Gardiner’s place of business to select fabric for new gowns and thought you might enjoy the outing as well.”

At once Georgiana’s face lit with pleasure and quickly turned to her brother, her eyes begging for his permission to accompany the ladies on their shopping trip. However, the idea of his sister traveling to the docks to shop for cloth in a warehouse was not nearly as appealing of a prospect to him. He was at a loss as to how to respond, not wishing to insult the Gardiners nor disappoint his sister, but unable to overlook the indelicacies of such an environment for a young lady.

Thankfully, Mrs. Gardiner seemed to note his unease, indeed possibly having even been prepared for it as she quickly sought to ease his discomfort with the idea. “My nieces and I often visit the warehouse the day before the linen-drapers, when samples of all the fabrics are arranged for display. Other than Mr. Gardiner and his assistant, who records our orders, there are no others about.” She then turned to Georgiana and teased, “We have all day to shop to our hearts’ content!”

Then returning her attention to Mr. Darcy, who at least now appeared to be considering her proposal, given her assurances that none of the dock workers would be present while Georgiana was there, she added, “I thought perhaps you may wish to join us as well, Mr. Darcy. I am certain Mr. Gardiner would be delighted to have a gentleman about with whom he can converse while we ladies shop.”

Looking then from Mrs. Gardiner to his sister, he was struck by how genuinely excited Georgiana appeared at the prospect, and he knew without a doubt that she would greatly enjoy the time spent in the company of Elizabeth and her aunt as they shopped.

As would he.

“I believe that would indeed make a pleasurable day for us all.”

The joy on his sister’s face was undeniable as he accepted the invitation. With arrangements for the following day then discussed and settled, the three spent what little time remained of Mrs. Gardiner’s call in the usual manner, with discussions of the weather and their dinner the previous week, until the quarter hour had passed and she was making her farewells until tomorrow.

Once the door had closed behind her, Georgiana’s excitement could be contained no longer, bursting forth with a string of thank-yous and other such expressions of gratitude for his agreement to this excursion. He was sure he would hear of little else for the remainder of their day; her bubbliness downright contagious as he listened to her chatter away, expressing her quiet hopes that she would be afford just such an opportunity.

“Oh! And I shall so greatly appreciate Elizabeth’s thoughts on colors for my gowns! I am certain she will not press me to select hues of orange, which are absolutely ghastly with oh-” Suddenly she stopped, her hands flying to her lips and her eyes growing wide as her brain appeared to have finally caught up with tongue. “Oh, that was terrible of me to say!”

However, her apologies for the slight were silenced as her brother merely chuckled in response, rising from his seat to drop a laughing kiss on her crown of curls. Making his way to the door, he jested, “Worry not, dearest. I assure you there is not one among us who wishes to see you awash in a sea of orange.”

*****PnP*****

If anyone in his twenty-eight years upon this earth had tried to convince him that a visit to a warehouse would make him feel like a lad on Christmas morning, Fitzwilliam Darcy would have thought them an absolute fool. For accompanying his sister as she selected cloth for gowns would be low on the list of activities he found pleasurable. And yet here he was, sitting in his carriage as it rolled along the bustling byways of the city with childlike excitement filling his heart. True, that anticipation had nothing to do with cloth and everything to do with the ladies whom he would be accompanying, but it still struck him forcibly just how eager he was at the prospect.

He had not been left unaffected by their dinner at the Gardiners. While enjoying the stimulating conversation of Mr. Gardiner, a pleasure which he had been truly surprised to discover, he had not failed to keep an ear upon at least some portions of the ladies’ conversations. That his sister and Elizabeth had taken so quickly to one another had filled him with an overwhelming sense of elation, as well as peace of mind. For the decision to introduce them had been a long and arduous one, and he had remained unconvinced as to the wisdom of it even after their morning call on Gracechurch Street. But listening to them talk and laugh throughout the meal had swayed him; he had indeed made the correct decision. Although they were not sisters, he was certain the sisterly bonds of female friendship were well on their way to forming.

Drawing his eyes from the window, he cast a furtive glance towards Georgiana, seated across from him; her fingers fidgeting restlessly with the fit of her gloves as she anticipated their arrival at the Gardiner home. As suspected, her conversation the previous evening had not ventured far from their plans for the day, and he was pleased to hear her express repeatedly her very great delight at not only spending the day with Elizabeth, but with her aunt and uncle as well.

Finally, the carriage slowed to a halt before the now familiar façade of the Gardiners’ home, a well situated and elegant townhouse standing amongst what he had to concede was a very pleasant row of shops and houses along Gracechurch Street. Bidding Georgiana to await them in the carriage, he made his way to the door, knocking to announce their arrival and finding the ladies in the entrance hall, donning their bonnets and pelisses.

Exchanging bows and curtsies alike, Mr. Darcy invited the ladies to precede him to his waiting carriage, not failing to miss the slight flush that had spread upon Elizabeth’s cheeks as she passed him. As he followed Mrs. Gardiner from the door, he was unexpectedly overcome with a strong sense of disappointment at the sight of his man handing Elizabeth into the carriage, an honor which he believed should be his as they are his guests for the journey. But never failing in his duties as a gentleman, he made a point to offer his assistance to Mrs. Gardiner as she mounted the carriage steps before following suit and settling into the back-facing seat beside his sister, who had changed her seat in order to accommodate their guests.

With greetings exchanged, Miss Darcy inquired after Elizabeth’s health, her concern unmistakable.

“Oh, I am indeed feeling much more myself today, I thank you,” she responded.

But her unease with the question was palpable, as Mr. Darcy could not help but notice the slight tremble in her hands and the quick darting of her eyes towards the window as she answered. Suddenly, he was struck by the possibility that the claim of a headache may not have actually been in truth. Was there some other reason why she had chosen not to accompany her aunt on her morning call?

“I was very happy to learn that you would be able to join us today,” she was then saying, settling her gaze upon his sister as she spoke.

“Oh, I do thank you for inviting us!”

“We are indeed so pleased to have you both with us,” Mrs. Gardiner added, turning her attention to Mr. Darcy as she jested, “As is my husband, who is so very grateful he shall be spared listening to us ladies chatter on about fabrics and gowns.”

And so the short carriage ride to Mr. Gardiner’s warehouse passed in pleasant conversation, primarily consisting of Mrs. Gardiner describing for the Darcys the manner in which the cloths are placed on display and the process for selecting those which they wished to purchase. In fascination, Georgiana listened intently to the descriptions of the warehouse, its contents, and vast selection of fabrics which they were likely to see. Elizabeth, too, spent much of the ride listening to all that was being said, contributing occasionally with an observation or two of her own. Mr. Darcy, however, failed miserably in his attempt to honor Mrs. Gardiner’s conversation, as the whole of his thoughts had settled fixedly upon the lady seated across from his sister.

While she was attentive to the discussions occurring about her, he could see that her mind was far from settled. Often he caught what he could only describe as an anxious glance being cast towards the window beside her. Was she uncomfortable with their presence? Or perhaps, with his presence? Had the knowledge of his assistance indeed result in making her feel uneasy when near him? When speaking to him? Had she wished he had not accompanied them today, believing him to be intruding on her time with her aunt and Georgiana?

But his train of thought and resulting self-recrimination was soon cut short as the carriage slowed to a halt, and he realized they had reached their destination. Rising from his seat, he descended the steps first to find Mr. Gardiner awaiting them outside the door to his office, his expression one of delight at espying the arrival of his family.

“Good day, Mr. Darcy!” He called, beginning to make his way towards the carriage.

“A good day to you as well, Sir,” he replied before turning to offer his hand to Mrs. Gardiner as she descended the carriage steps. Bowing graciously in receipt of her appreciation, he then turned to offer assistance to the others, finding Georgiana to be the next to step from the conveyance.

However, as he then turned at last offer assistance to Elizabeth, he was to be disappointed yet again, finding that Mr. Gardiner had now crossed the wide expanse of the pavement in time to offer his hand to his niece. Forced by propriety to take a step back as she descended the steps, he begrudgingly turned to his driver to issue his instructions before finally turning his full attention one the group now assembled on the sidewalk outside E&G’s Continental Imports.

“Welcome, Miss Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner greeted jovially. “I do hope you shall be pleased by the selection we have for you today.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gardiner. I am certain I shall indeed.”

“Very good.” Then bidding everyone to follow him, the small group was led to a door with which Mr. Darcy was unfamiliar. It had been cut into one of the larger bay doors and brought them not to a set of stairs leading up to the offices but directly onto the floor of the expansive storage space. Casting his eyes about the cavernous space, Mr. Darcy found himself faced with precisely the scene described to him during a previous call with Elizabeth. Stacks of crates piled high, one upon another, stretching far before them. Before each row, a complex system of pulleys had been arranged, hoisting fabrics of every color, every design imaginable to man high towards the ceiling; the cascade of colors rendering even him speechless for a moment.

“Oh…” Hearing her sigh of wonder, he turned then to look upon Georgiana, who was standing by his side. Her eyes wide and her mouth gaping slightly as she gazed upon the selection, forming for her brother a most amusing sight, one of which he was sure he would not soon forget.

“Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy, pray allow me to introduce my assistant, Mr. Daughtry.”

Mr. Darcy immediately recognized the young man standing before him; the one who had once before stood before him, determined to upset his attempts to speak with Mr. Gardiner several weeks earlier.

“Mr. Daughtry shall be the one attending you today. He is well informed on all the cloth you see on display before you and can answer any questions which you may have. He shall also see to your orders and where you wish they be delivered.”

“Thank you, Mr. Gardiner,” his wife replied, then turning to the ladies, bid them to follow her as they moved towards one end of the warehouse, clearly intent on investigating each of the options available to them that day; Mr. Daughtry and his writing board following close behind.

“I must say, Mr. Gardiner, this is quite an impressive display. And all these cloths come to you from the East Indies?”

“They do indeed, Sir. Well, the Far East in general. My business partner, Mr. Easton, personally selects all of our merchandise, from cloth and spices to coffee and tea. He has traveled and lived among the peoples of India and the islands for the past twenty years or so and knows a quality product when he sees one.”

“Twenty years? Such a length of time to be from home.”

“Ah, it would be for me. I can hardly tolerate being away from my family for more than a day or so. But Mr. Easton has never been one for marriage and family. Traveling the East and living among its people are his passion.”

“An ideal business arrangement then?”

“Oh yes. Very much so,” he replied, his gaze wandering towards the ladies, who were now clearly enraptured with the silks hanging before them. For a moment the gentlemen watched in silence as they examined closely the fabrics on display, running them through their hands and holding them against their skin, each appearing to offer her opinion on a particular color or design.

Suddenly, Mr. Gardiner took up the conversation once more. “We have recently been in discussion about expanding our business.”

“Oh?”

“Mmmmm,” Mr. Gardiner hummed as he nodded in response. Turning his gaze once more towards the rafters, examining the rivers of cloth hanging before them, he explained, “We are merely the middle men who make the English economy thrive, scouring the world in search of those items which the English love so well. Did you know, Sir, that the linen drapers who come tomorrow to purchase our wares will sell them at a profit far above our own?”

“I did not.”

“Tis true. The lowest quality of cloth which you see hanging here today, they will sell for at the very least ten percent more? The highest of quality upwards of fifty?”

“Fifty percent?”

“Aye.” Again the gentleman cast his gaze about the warehouse. “We have been considering the possibility of opening our own linen drapers shop; a place where we could sell our finds at a considerable profit, yet still lower than that of our competitors.”

His curiosity growing as he listened to his host, Mr. Darcy looked once more towards the ladies and observed them quietly for a few moments. Georgiana seemed to have taken a keen interest in one of the patterns hanging above her, and after watching the ladies discuss it intently, he was struck by her expression of fascination as she ran it through her hands.

“Tell me, Mr. Gardiner, that one which my sister is admiring at the moment, how would that be sold in this business venture of yours?”

“Oh, that is indeed a fine selection. Chinese brocade. We could sell that particular piece at a thirty percent mark-up and still undercut our competition significantly.”

“If that is so, what prevents you from doing so?”

Watching his companion closely, he observed in silence as the older man’s countenance seemed to lighten considerable as he gazed upon the ladies. Following Mr. Gardiner’s gaze, he found it had settled firmly upon his wife, who was currently draping a rich, green silk about her; a color which even he had to admit complemented her well.

“As I am sure you understand, Sir, a man who has a wife and children to see to and provide for is cautious in all his decisions.”

The weight of these words were allowed to hang heavily in the air about them, both silent for several long moments as they watched the ladies continue to debate the merits of numerous materials; their search for the perfect morning dress muslin and evening gown silks continuing on. Their joy, their pleasure at such an activity striking both men similarly.

Once again it was Mr. Gardiner who broke the silence. His voice low as he broached the distasteful subject of their shared interest, “I wished for a few moments to speak with you concerning our common concern.”

At once Mr. Darcy returned his attention to the man beside him, his expression encouraging him to proceed.

“I believe you may be pleased to know that my man here in town has issued a report I believe we both shall find to be very favorable indeed.” As Mr. Darcy replied with but an eyebrow raised in interest, he continued quietly. “It appears this… woman of whom we have spoken is indeed the very same as I had suspected.”

“She is?”

“Mmmm, one who is indeed quite fond of the gaming table.”

“Is she now?”

“Aye. I have asked my man to look more closely into the extent of her habits, and thus far he has easily uncovered at least two sources of debt which the lady has thus far been unable to pay.”

“How much? Do we know?”

“Combined they equal nearly ninety pounds, and my man is quite certain he has only just begun.”

“Very interesting indeed,” Mr. Darcy agreed, his eyes straying once more towards the ladies. There he stood, watching as Elizabeth held a fabric close to his sister, her smile and happy expression seeming to encourage the young girl to purchase it. He then watched as she turned to Mr. Daughtry, her cheeks glowing and her smile wide as she said something to him.

“Purchase them.”

“Pardon?”

“All of her debts, have your man purchase them.” Then turning to his partner in this venture, he inquired, “Do you believe him capable of presenting himself as a creditor?”

“Mr. Jackson? But of course,” Mr. Gardiner paused briefly as the slightest of smiles touched his lips, “Why else do you believe I would have selected him?”

For a long minute the two men examined each other, taking a measure of the still unsuspected ally who stood before him.  
“I wish all of her debt consolidated with us.”

“He has already begun to do so. I have forwarded him funds with which to accumulate them, although I must admit, I do not yet know the full extent of what that may entail.”

“Whatever it is, I shall provide any additional funds needed.” Again he turned his gaze towards the ladies, his eyes drawn to the happy countenance of Elizabeth as she held a light green fabric against her bosom and turned towards Georgiana to request her opinion.

“Lizzy believes you take too much upon yourself, Sir.” Mr. Gardiner then stated, forcing the gentleman’s attention back to himself.

“As I have said before, Sir, my family is in its own right responsible for all that has occurred.”

Mr. Gardiner seemed willing to let that settle the matter, and they both returned their focus to the ladies, watching in pleasant silence as they selected their fabrics. When at last they seemed to have exhausted their energies, they returned to the gentleman and declared their mission accomplished.

“Very good, I hope you were all able to find that which you sought.”

“Oh yes,” Georgiana declared, “I do thank you, Sir, for allowing me such a privilege.”

“You are most welcome, Miss Darcy.”

As they were then escorted to the carriage awaiting them outside, Georgiana again thanked Mr. Gardiner for his hospitality as she mounted the carriage steps. Expressing his pleasure at being once more in her company, he then offered his hand to his wife and promised to see her at home before long. And once again, Mr. Darcy was denied the privilege of handing Elizabeth into the carriage as her uncle claimed that right.

“I thank you, Sir.”

“You are indeed most welcome, Mr. Darcy. We shall speak again soon, I am sure.”

The return to Gracechurch Street was filled with the happy twitter of the ladies and countless giggles as they enthused over their selections, describing in what would have normally been considered excruciating detail their purchases. But as Mr. Darcy was pleased to hear them gush happily over the fabrics they had selected, it made for a pleasurable return to the Gardiner home.

As they neared the residence, Mr. Darcy was pleased to hear Georgiana issue an invitation to Mrs. Gardiner and her niece to join them for dinner the following evening. However, Elizabeth visibly stiffened at once; her aunt stumbling in her response. And all at once, Mr. Darcy believed he had found his answer: Elizabeth had not accompanied her aunt because she was concerned about visiting Darcy House. It had been that very thought that had driven him to address Mr. Hawkins and Mrs. Chadwick. How thoughtless of him not to realize she must hold the same concerns.

Determined to welcome her once again into his home, Mr. Darcy seconded his sister’s invitation, saying, “It would indeed be a very great honor to have you dine with us.” As his eyes then settled upon Elizabeth, he added, “Pray, do accept our invitation to dine at Darcy House.”

Stuttering for a few moments, Elizabeth finally turned to her aunt and nodded slightly in response.

“We thank you for your generous invitation. We are happy to accept.”


	22. Chapter 22

Standing before the armoire in her bedchamber, Elizabeth found herself once again mired in a seemingly endless debate: which gown to select for the evening? It was an increasingly common occurrence with which she was quickly losing patience. As the peach gown Mrs. Dowery had completed ahead of their visit to the warehouse was well-suited for day wear, and the two remaining gowns, one of which would be suitable for their dinner with the Darcys, had not yet been completed, she was left to choose yet again from the selection of gowns gifted to her by Mr. Darcy. And although Georgiana had yet to comment on them, Elizabeth could not help but wonder if the young girl had indeed started to notice the striking similarities to her own wardrobe.

However, the selection of her evening gown was far from her only concern for the approaching evening, as dinner at Darcy House presented an entirely new cause for worry. It was no longer only Georgiana with whom she need be on-guard, but the staff of Darcy House as well. For aside from the master himself, they were the only others to have born witness firsthand to her disgrace; they knowing all too well the great breach in propriety of which she and Mr. Darcy were guilty, and Mrs. Chadwick and Julia most certainly able to discern where she had resided prior to her scandalous arrival in the early hours of that fateful morning. And now… now she was to face them once again, visiting Darcy House as a guest of the master and his sister, striving to present herself as a proper young lady worthy of their respect and honor; each of them knowing all the while that she was in no position to garner either.

Feeling the tears of her shame filling her eyes, she shook her head brusquely in an urgent attempt to dispel them, struggling to regain control of herself. No, this was foolishness! The master of the house was welcoming her into his home, and as a friend to his sister no less! A man of Mr. Darcy’s character would not scandalize himself, his family in such a careless manner. Surely they must understand that as well. Right?

Recognizing that such speculation would render no true answers, serving only to cause her further agitation, she forced her attention once more to the armoire. Having discussed the matter of her gown earlier in the day with her aunt, they had expressed a similar belief that it may be best to wear a gown in which she had already been seen, hoping to relegate any speculations Georgiana may be having to a mere matter of coincidence. With this in mind, Elizabeth finally selected the dark blue gown she had worn at their previous dinner, only now decided upon utilizing several pieces of fine lace to make the gown more suitable for a dinner at Darcy House.

Hearing a light tapping upon her bedchamber door, Elizabeth knew that Mary, her aunt’s personal maid, had arrived to assist her in her preparations, a request Elizabeth had made for the first time since her return to Gracechurch. Granting her entry, the two chatted amicably as she assisted Elizabeth in dressing for dinner; Mary being particularly helpful in arranging her lace in such a manner as to render the gown well-suited to their evening engagement. Then, once settled at the dressing table, Elizabeth was assisted in securing a necklace borrowed from her aunt before the young girl took up the brush and turned her attention to Elizabeth’s hair. But as she reached to undo the simple knot in which it was usually styled, she was caught quite by surprised when her mistress’ niece jerked sharply away from her hands.

An uncomfortable silence filled the space between them, lasting for several long moments before Elizabeth found her voice. Seeking to quickly dispel the discomfort, she turned slightly in her seat and gently took the brush from the maid’s hands, explaining away her reaction. The small quiver in her voice belying her words as she said, “I believe I am well-prepared for the evening and shall leave my hair as is. I do so thank you, Mary, for your invaluable assistance.”

Then turning once more to the mirror, she subtly observed the girl as she bobbed respectfully in receipt of her dismissal and withdrew from the room. Once the door behind her closed, Elizabeth could no longer contain herself, releasing an angry yet shaky sigh of exasperation as she threw the brush to the table; the clatter of the wood upon the tabletop echoing throughout the chamber. Dropping her head into her still trembling hands, her eyes squeezed tightly closed, she again berated herself for such a puerile overreaction to the most innocent of actions. After multiple attempts to calm her breathing, she finally raised her head, pressing her fingers firmly to her lips as she quietly observed her reflection. Further discomposed by the watery gaze staring back at her, she wiped roughly at her eyes and took another deep breath before reaching for her pins, determined to at the very least tidy her curls in preparation for their dinner.

In Berkeley Square, the preparations for the approaching evening at Darcy House were also not without their own trepidation.

Settling himself into one of the plush leather armchairs situated before the fire, Mr. Darcy sipped quietly at a glass of brandy as he awaited the arrival of his guests. As his sister was still engaged abovestairs, he had been quite pleased to find a few moments to himself ahead of their evening. To say that he had been happy to hear Mrs. Gardiner accept their invitation was given, but as to just _how happy_ it had made him only he could truly know. His desire for Georgiana and Elizabeth’s friendship to grow was heavily dependent on her ability to feel welcome and comfortable in visiting their home, and he had been quite well pleased to be presented with an opportunity to do just that. As such, he had made a point to take aside his butler and housekeeper once again to inform them of their pending engagement and again stress the importance of ensuring the lady’s comfort.

Now confident that the staff of Darcy House were firm in their understanding of the master’s wishes, he had naught to do but pass the time until the Gardiner’s arrival as quickly as he could: a task in which he had utterly failed. Never before could he remember a time when the clock had seemed to move so slowly, and regardless of how many matters of business he had tended to nor reading he had done was enough to make the time move more quickly. But now, finally, his long day of trying to will Father Time along had at last brought so very close the moment he had awaited.

When a knock was heard upon his door, he quickly looked to the clock, surprised to be receiving word of his guests’ early arrival. Suppressing the pleased smile which threatened to spill forth, he rose stoically to his feet and granted entrance, preparing to receive Mr. Hawkins’ announcement, but instead was left exclaiming rather loudly, “Charles!”

“Good evening to you as well, Darcy,” his friend jested as he made his way into the room.

“W-w-w… what….” Stumbling briefly in his response, Mr. Darcy struggled to pull himself from his surprise, scrambling to gather his thoughts in the face of his unexpected, and to be honest, unwelcome visitor. “I was not expecting to see you this evening.”

“As welcoming as always, I see,” Mr. Bingley teased.

“No, I did not mean… That is to say, I am just surprised by your arrival.” Then giving a few quick moments of consideration as to what to say next, desperate to find some quick yet polite way to expedite his friend’s departure, Mr. Darcy finally decided to use the truth to his advantage. Well, some small measure of the truth, that is. “We are expecting guests, and I had believed your knock to be Mr. Hawkins announcing their arrival.”

“Oh! I am terribly sorry! I should have thought to see if you were engaged for the evening before arriving unannounced.”

“No, no. There is no need for an apology. It has been either of our habits to do such over the years.” But as his friend smiled in response, Mr. Darcy could not help but notice that it was lackluster at best; the usually jovial nature of his friend appearing dimmed and unsettled. “Charles?”

“My apologies again, Darcy,” he replied, his gaze shifting towards the rug beneath his feet as his mask of good humor fell away quickly. “I am at a loss as to how to occupy myself at present and hoped you might be free to accompany me to White’s.”

These cryptic words doing little to assuage his concern, Mr. Darcy inquired after the source of Mr. Bingley’s tempered mood.

Returning his gaze to his companion, the young man let forth a long sigh, “Miss Wyndham and her parents have been called away to Bath; her grandmother’s health, which had at first appeared to be improving, has turned. They fear she may not be with them much longer.”

The sadness now marking the countenance of his longtime friend struck him forcibly, and Mr. Darcy was sincere in his expression of condolences for Miss Wyndham and her family.

“I appreciate your sentiments, and I shall be sure to pass them along when next I write to them. They as yet have no expectations as to how long they shall remain in Bath, but it is their intention to remain with her until…”

“I understand.” And in truth, Mr. Darcy did understand the full implications of his friend’s circumstances. For if his fiancée’s grandmother had indeed improved, they would be free to announce their engagement and move forward with planning their nuptials. However, with the health of her grandmother declining, inevitably leading to her passing, there could be no indication as to how long Mr. Bingley and Miss Wyndham would have to wait until their marriage could take place. For he knew all too well how unpredictable the passing of a love one to be; his mother having passed after only a few weeks and his father after several years of illness.

Clearing his throat, Mr. Bingley sought to dispel his melancholy and asked hopefully, “However, as you are engaged for the evening, perhaps we may plan for another time?”

“Yes, I have no set plans for tomorrow evening, if such would be agreeable to you?”

“Capital!” Mr. Bingley then declared and again apologized for intruding upon his friend’s evening.

“’Tis no trouble,” and deciding to see him to the door, swallowed what remained of his brandy and followed him from the room.

As they made their way towards the entrance hall, Mr. Darcy was surprised to hear Mr. Bingley say, “Do pass along my greetings to the Colonel.” And upon seeing Mr. Darcy’s unmistakable confusion at his words, attempted to clarify, “Your cousin. It has been quite some time since we last played a hand or two at White’s. Oh, perhaps he would care to join us tomorrow!”

This did little to dispel Mr. Darcy’s confusion and looking to his friend stated, “Richard is currently in the south with his regiment.”

“Oh! My apologies again! I had assumed you were dining with your Matlock relations.”

“Uh, no.” At a loss as to how to respond, Mr. Darcy desperately cast about for some way to reply which would not result in exposing, particularly to Mr. Bingley, his renewed connection to the Bennets. Finally, he was struck with an answer that was both the truth but would also serve this purpose. “We are dinning with friends of Georgiana’s.”

His answered appeared to be sufficient is deterring any further question as Mr. Bingley quickly refocused his attention on his own sister. “That does remind me, Caroline wishes to have you and Miss Darcy for dinner sometime soon. Perhaps we shall discuss a time when next we meet?”

Begrudgingly Mr. Darcy nodded his consent, although secretly taking up the goal of keeping Charles distracted enough tomorrow evening to avoid broaching the subject. With Charles appeased for the moment, he donned his coat and hat and bid Mr. Darcy farewell until tomorrow, but his exit from Darcy House was promptly interrupted by the ringing of the doorbell, causing Mr. Darcy’s heart to seize within his chest. Knowing for certain that the bell marked the arrival of Elizabeth and her relations, he was left with no other choice than to stand helplessly aside as the inevitable unfolded before him.

As Mr. Hawkins opened the door, admitting their guests for the evening, his eyes quickly sought her’s as she crossed the threshold, her eyes cast everywhere but at Mr. Hawkins as he bowed respectfully. But in her determination not to look at the butler, they instead fell first upon Mr. Darcy before then flitting away quickly in her unease. When her gaze next discovered Mr. Bingley standing before her, she halted abruptly in her steps, her eyes growing wide and her lips parting in a silent gasp of surprise.

“Miss Bennet!” Mr. Bingley cried, he too caught unawares by the unexpected arrival of an old acquaintance.

Recovering quickly, she was able to execute her curtsey gracefully as she greeted the gentlemen before her, graciously conducting the introduction of Mr. Bingley and her relatives; the slight stutter in her words as she did so remaining unnoticed in the young man’s haste to greet the Gardiners.

But for Mr. Darcy, he had not failed to note the apprehension in her voice nor the uncertainty in her eyes as she glanced nervously towards him.

“I am so very happy to see you again, Miss Bennet!” Charles declared, his innate good humor returning at once. “It has indeed been a very long time since I had the pleasure of seeing you. It is above eleven months.”

“Indeed, Sir. I do believe you are correct,” she concurred.

“Yes, we have not met since the 26th of November, when we were dancing together at Netherfield.”

Again, she agreed that he must indeed be correct, unable to keep the smile from her lips at finding his memory to be so exact.

The conversation then lulled as everyone seemed uncertain of what to say or do next. Having clearly caught Mr. Bingley on his way out, Mr. Darcy’s guests did not wish to take up any more of the gentleman’s time, assuming there was some place which he needed to be. But as Charles was clearly quite pleased to have crossed paths with Miss Bennet and seemed eager to engage her in further conversation, he became increasingly reluctant to make his farewell. With all eyes eventually turning to Mr. Darcy, looking to receive some hint as to how to proceed, he found himself rather disappointed in realizing the only polite thing for him to do at this point was to invite Charles to dine with them.

Turning to his friend, he quietly swallowed the lump which had been lodged in his throat since first hearing the doorbell. “You are most welcome to join us for dinner, Mr. Bingley, if you are not otherwise engaged.”

“My, I believe that would make for a most pleasurable evening, indeed! I thank you.” And after returning his coat and hat to Mr. Hawkins, he followed the small party as they mounted the stairs and made their way towards the drawing room, where Miss Darcy was awaiting their arrival.

As his guests assumed their places upon the settees, chatting amicably amongst themselves as they awaited the call for dinner, Mr. Darcy remained relatively quiet. Positioning himself beside Georgiana’s chair, he was able to look fully upon Elizabeth, observing her closely as Mr. Bingley repeatedly attempted to engage her in conversation. It was clear to him that she was far from comfortable with the sudden addition of Charles to their dinner party; the stiffness in her posture and the forced geniality in her smile giving away the true nature of her thoughts.

Once again silently cursing Charles’ bad timing, Mr. Darcy stood poised and ready to intervene in their conversation should his friend inadvertently ask her a question which she would be unable to answer honestly. Focused so intently in his purpose, he failed to attend the conversation of Georgiana and the Gardiners, missing his sister’s inquiry after the name of his steward at Pemberley. Only after she had to call his name for the third time, did he finally realize he was being addressed. “Pardon?”

“Mr. Hayward?” she prompted, noting the puzzled expression upon her brother’s face.

“What of him?”

“His Christian name?” When he only continued to look at her in further confusion, she sought to catch him up in their conversation, one of which he was clearly ignoring. “Mrs. Gardiner remembers playing with the Haywards when she was a small child living in Lambton. She was curious as to which of the brothers now serves as your steward.”

“Ah, uh… Johnathan,” he responded absently, his attention having already begun to shift once again to Mr. Bingley and Elizabeth. But realizing quickly the impropriety of his response added, “Mr. Johnathan Hayward.”

“Indeed!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, laughing merrily as she jested, “I must say that surprises me greatly! Why, I remember when we were children he could hardly be kept still long enough to write a sentence.”

“Yes, he certainly is a man of boundless energy. A trait which has served him well in overseeing the many tasks for which he is responsible.”

As the conversation then moved on to discussing other people Mrs. Gardiner remembered from her time in Derbyshire, Mr. Darcy forced his attention to remain with it, wishing to avoid a repeat of his embarrassing inattention. But that did not prevent him from still observing closely the interaction between his other two guests, and as dinner was announced, he moved to offer his arm to Elizabeth, hoping to escort her to the dining room and secure her seat alongside his. However, as Mr. Bingley was seated directly beside her, it was he who was able to claim the honor first, leaving a very disgruntled Mr. Darcy in his wake as they made their way to dinner.

*****PnP*****

For all the possibilities Elizabeth had entertained ahead of their dinner, spending her meal in the company of Mr. Bingley was most certainly not one of them! Yet here she was, sharing a meal and conversing with the gentleman as if time had not passed at all!

“Shall you be remaining in Town throughout the Season, Miss Bennet?”

Using the pretense of cooling her soup, she quickly cast about for an answer to such a benign, yet unintentionally heavy, question; the first of many in this vein she was sure. “I have no set plans at this time, Sir.”

“Oh, but surely you must stay and enjoy at least some of the entertainments to be had! Just this past week, we attended a most delightful production at the theater.” But following this, Elizabeth was left quite curious at seeing the gentleman’s countenance fall; his cheeks flushing with the slightest of pinks as he suddenly turned his attention to his soup.

Uncertain as to what could cause such a drastic shift in his demeanor and seeking to ease his discomfort, she continued on as if she had noticed nothing. “I have not been to the theater is some time,” she confessed, swallowing heavily against her own unease as she speculated, “Perhaps we shall try to attend once the holidays have passed.”

“Are you to return to Longbourn for Christmas? Or perhaps your family may travel to London and enjoy some of the Season as well?” Despite the innocence of such a question, it appeared to do little to ease Mr. Bingley’s discomfort.

“No, I shall not be returning to Longbourn,” she answered firmly, more so than she had intended, before taking up her wine glass in an attempt to sooth the fraying of her nerves.  
“At all?” He asked, his surprise at her tone evident in his own.

“It is my intention to seek a position in the new year.” Then taking another rather unladylike gulp of her wine, she struggled to steady her hands as she braced herself for the inevitable.

“A positon? Are you seeking employment, Miss Bennet?”

“I am, Sir.” Heavily tempted to take yet a third swill of her wine, Elizabeth responsibly decided it may be best to focus her attention on her soup, and drawing a deep breath, she recited her now well-practice lie to her dinner companion. “I was recently employed by a family in the north to serve as a governess to their children. However, a turn in the health of their grandmother called the family to the continent, and my aunt and uncle have been so kind as to assist me in leaving their employment and seeking a new position.”

“Oh,” was about all Mr. Bingley was able to utter in response to such surprising news. For a moment he paused, seeming to give some small consideration to his next words before asking, “And are… all your sisters still at Longbourn?”

“Aye, all but my eldest.”

“Oh.” His mien falling at receiving this bit of news, making his displeasure at hearing such evident. However, it lightened at once upon hearing her next words.

“She is here in London, employed in the care of three young children.”

“Oh! She too is serving as a governess?” He asked, his bafflement at these revelations undeniable.

“Yes, Sir. Such became necessary following-” Suddenly she stopped, abandoning her sentence as she realized she had inadvertently cleared the way for a more detailed discussion of the happenings at Longbourn. An opportunity which the gentleman did not fail to take.

“Miss Bennet, I do hope all has been well since last we met.”

Resisting the urge to reach once more for her wine glass, Elizabeth busied her restless hands with straightening her silverware. “I am afraid not, Sir. My father passed in April.”

Gasping in shock, Mr. Bingley was profuse in his apologies for dredging up such unpleasant memories while also sincerely conveying his deepest sympathies and condolences for her loss. After remarking that he had not realized Mr. Bennet to be ill, Elizabeth was left to explain that he was not.

“It was quite sudden and not at all expected on that day. He had been in his library, reading as he usually does, when Mr. Jones believes his heart ceased to beat. My mother and sisters had not realized there was anything amiss until my sister Jane brought him his afternoon tea.” Feeling her eyes beginning to fill, Elizabeth realized it was imperative to cease this line of conversation and lighten their mood at once, lest she begin to cry right there at the table. Covering for her sniffles with a gentle laugh, she was now the one to apologize. “My apologies, Sir! This is hardly a conversation best suited to a dinner party!”

“No, pray accept my apologies, Miss Bennet, for asking you to speak of such memories.”

Brushing aside his apology, she declared it unnecessary and allowed for a lull in their dialogue as the first course was cleared and the second placed before them. Using that time to gather herself once more, Elizabeth was then able to explain with little visible distress that her mother and youngest sisters were remaining at Longbourn for the foreseeable future while she and Jane had sought employment to help provide what little support they could.

“That is very generous of your cousin. A very good man, indeed.”

That Elizabeth was able to maintain her composure in lieu of his words was a great feat indeed, and a testament as to how far she had come in but a few short weeks. Her small victory, however, did not prevent her from abruptly changing the topic, inquiring after the well-being of Mr. Bingley’s sisters and Mr. Hurst.

“They are all well. I shall be sure to pass along your well wishes when next I see them.”

And although she had not actually offered as much, she was content to thank him for such consideration. “I am sure Miss Bingley must be quite pleased to be in Ton for the Season.”

“Oh, yes! She enjoys the Season greatly and is always happy to return to Town,” he explained. “As I am sure you know, she does not care much for the country.”

“Truly? Why I was quite certain she found no greater pleasure than that of walking the lanes of Hertfordshire on a summer morn!”

Looking up quickly from his meal, Mr. Bingley turned a look of great confusion on his companion, prepared to dispel such a misgiving. But upon receiving a mischievous smirk from his tablemate, he laughed lightly in turn and shook his head. “I am sure she would be quite content to remain in Town all year-round if possible.”

“Then she shall not return to Netherfield with you in the summer?” She inquired, covering for her discomfort in asking such with another sip of wine. As she watched his expression fall, she was quickly filled with guilt for breeching such a topic, done so more to confirm her own suspicions than for fostering polite conversation.

Clearing his throat, he used his fork to restless shuffled his food about the plate. “I am no longer in possession of Netherfield.”

“Oh?” She knew it was impolite to press him further, but her own curiosity and concern for Jane should they once again cross paths were too strong to resist.

“Yes, I have allowed the lease to lapse. We have decided that we wish to settle more closely to our relatives in the north.”

“I see.”

“Yes, our family is a small one by now, and while visiting our aunt and uncle this summer, we came to realize how dearly we missed their company.”

“Well, one certainly cannot fault you for such. I do so dearly miss my family when I am from them.”

The somber tone of their conversation hung heavily in the air about them, each allowing it to slip into silence as they pondered upon their own private thoughts. Eventually Mr. Bingley was able to take up the conversation, and with both quietly resolved to avoid any further topics which may call forth a return of discomfort, the remainder of their dinner progressed far more smoothly than it had begun; each masterfully hiding their secrets from one another. For no mention was made by the gentleman concerning his fiancée, nor she allowing any indication that all was not truly well with her family. When at last the time came for the separation of the sexes, Elizabeth released a great sigh of relief at being able to rise from the table with her poise and dignity still intact.

*****PnP*****

_Soothing._ That was the word for which he had been searching.

Seated in an armchair close to the window, Mr. Darcy stared silently at the wall, noting for the first time the gentle green coloring of the morning room. It was a light, pastel color which he had to admit was rather soothing in its tone, his mood already lightening after only a few moments within its confines. And he was most certainly in need of soothing after having spent the past two days in a rather sour mood.

While the dinner with the Gardiners and Elizabeth could indeed be counted as a great success, he had found the evening to be one of endless disappointments and exacerbations. With the unwelcome addition of Charles to their dinner party, the gentleman had made a point to commandeer Elizabeth’s attention throughout the whole of the evening, leaving Mr. Darcy with no opportunity to engage his guest in even the smallest of conversations, only to then have his evening end in an unpleasant confrontation with said gentleman.

_As the door closed behind his guests, Mr. Darcy had turned to his friend, expecting to make his farewell to Mr. Bingley as well. Frustrated from an evening of only being able to watch Elizabeth from afar had left him in a foul mood, and he wished for nothing more than to have the cause of his troubles removed from his presence. But it was clear Mr. Bingley held entirely different intentions, requesting a glass of brandy in his friend’s study._

_Begrudgingly, Mr. Darcy was forced by propriety to agree and once they had retreated to his study and the door closed, Mr. Bingley immediately demanded, “Did you know she is in town?”_

_“I beg your pardon?”_

_“Miss Bennet! Did you know she is in London?”_

_Mr. Darcy remained silent for a moment as he observed his friend’s agitation, his face flushed as he shifted anxiously from one foot to the next. “No, Charles. I was just as surprised as you to see Miss Bennet cross my threshold, as I had been expecting the Queen and Prince Regent for dinner,” he drawled._

_Throwing his hands up in frustration, Mr. Bingley quickly set about pacing back and forth before the door. “Come now, Darcy! Tell me the truth!”_

_“Of course I knew Miss Bennet has been residing in London. I was present when Georgiana invited her to dinner.”_

_“You know that is not the Miss Bennet to whom I refer! Jane Bennet! Did you know that Jane Bennet is in town?”_

_Choosing not to answer in the immediate, Mr. Darcy turned his attention on the decanter of brandy, pouring a glass for himself before then moving to stand beside the fire. The light it cast allowed for a clearer inspection of his friend and the ability to discern the great distress under which he was clearly laboring. Unable to remain still, Charles continued to pace as he awaited his answer._

_“What does it matter if I did?”_

_Finally, Charles ceased his pacing and turned to Mr. Darcy in surprise. “What does it matter?” He repeated in awe. “You know I would wish to see her!”_

_“Such would be inappropriate as she is currently in the employ of a wealthy family of standing. I am fairly certain they would not take kindly to their governess receiving a male caller.”_

_It was clear from his expression that this was a thought which had not yet occurred to Charles as he, as usual, was too overcome with the impulse to act in haste. Yet, this revelation was not enough to deter him from his purpose. “But you still should have told me. It would be the proper thing to do for one’s friend.”_

_“Is it?” Mr. Darcy asked, his tone beginning to harden as he again took a moment to quietly observe his friend. “I see no good that would have come from my sharing this information concerning Miss Bennet. She is, after all, in employment and therefor in no position to receive you, and you are a man recently engaged to another.”_

_This was enough to finally still Mr. Bingley. Standing in the middle of the room, his mouth gaping in silence as Mr. Darcy’s words rendered him speechless, Mr. Bingley presented a picture of pure, unadulterated shock. It was a picture pitiful enough to make even Mr. Darcy’s stony façade begin to crumble._

_When at last Charles was able to gather his wits, and close his mouth, he turned to stare out the study window for a few moments, searching the darkness for what to say next. Finally, he admitted, “Of course, Darcy. You are indeed correct, and pray accept my apologies for accusing you of acting against me.” Then clearing his throat, he turned to face his friend, but his eyes could not fully rise to meet Mr. Darcy’s. “I believe the fitful rest I have been experiencing since learning of Miss Wyndham’s grandmother has gotten the better of me. I believe I shall retire for the evening.”_

_“Of course.”_

_Then thanking Mr. Darcy for his hospitality, Mr. Bingley made his farewells, leaving a still-frustrated but slightly remorseful Mr. Darcy to his thoughts._

The sound of the morning room door opening quickly penetrated the gentleman’s musings, bringing him back to the present just as the ladies of the house entered the room. With bows and curtseys exchanged between all those assembled, Mrs. Gardiner had the unhappy task of informing her guests of their pending departure.

“Pray, accept my sincerest apologies for being unable to attend you this morning. We have just finished preparing the children for our visit to the park, and I fear I have but a precious few moments to usher them into the carriage before their restlessness gets the best of them,” she jested.

Miss Darcy was then quick to offer her own apologies for intruding upon their plans for the day, insisting they fully understood her desire to take advantage of the sunny, if brisk, weather they were experiencing.

“We would be delighted if you wished to join us,” Aunt Madeline then offered, masterfully hiding her amusement at seeing Elizabeth start.

With the Darcys accepting the offer at once, it took the work of but ten minutes to see all settled comfortably in their respective carriages, bound for Hyde Park. While the Darcys rode in silence, each pleased for the opportunity to spend more than the polite quarter hour in the company of the Gardiners and Miss Bennet, the Gardiner carriage was filled with the joyful sound of the children’s enthusiasm at getting to visit the park and hopefully feed the ducks, a task for which they could easily be engaged for hours on end. When at last the party was reassembled at the park entrance, the adults were content to walk in silence, listening as the children exclaimed excitedly in response to everything they saw.

Mr. Darcy could not remember a time when he had been in the company of children of such young ages, all of his cousins being close to him in age and without children of their own yet. He supposed the youngest child he had really spent any time about had been his own sister as she had grown from infancy, but even much of that time had been spent away from home, first at Eton and then again in university. He was quite surprised to find himself entertained by their enthusiasm, as well as Elizabeth’s pleasure at laughing along with her cousins as they walked along hand-in-hand. Her natural ease with children strikingly obvious.

When at last they had reached their destination, the children squealed in delight at seeing a large flock of birds floating peacefully upon the calm waters. At once, they turned to their mother, begging for the basket she carried containing stale bread. Gently reminding the children they could not descend the bank without holding the hand of an adult, she turned to the ladies and invited them to accompany her to the water’s edge. Georgiana volunteered happily, but Elizabeth hesitated. Warily eyeing the slope which she would be required to descend, she politely declined, electing to remain on the walk as the children played, and despite little Sophia Gardiner’s protests, she remained firm in her resolve.

“I know my company shall not compare to that of Elizabeth,” Georgiana interjected, “but perhaps you would be willing to show me how to feed the ducks?”

For a moment the small child examined the young Miss Darcy with doubt, clearly evaluating the young woman’s ability to participate in such an important task. Eventually deciding in favor of the request, she took the woman’s hand within her own tiny grasp and pulled Georgiana and her sister along as she descended the bank.

“We shall not be too long, I am sure,” Mrs. Gardiner added as she took the hands of her two young sons and followed suit, leaving only Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy standing in the walk, quietly observing the scene below.

Eventually gathering his courage to do so, Mr. Darcy sought to initiate some conversation between them, having been denied the ability to do so when last they were in company. “I wished to thank you and your relations for the pleasure of your company the other night. I apologize for not having the opportunity to do so at the time.”

“Oh, yes,” she replied, her tone indicating that she well understood the underlying insinuations of his words. “We enjoyed ourselves immensely, I thank you.”

“Our pleasure, I assure you.”

Allowing a moment of silence to pass between them, Elizabeth decided to venture further in this line of conversation, her curiosity surrounding the surprising addition of Mr. Bingley to their party getting the better of her. “I was quite surprised to once again have the pleasure of Mr. Bingley’s company. I had not expected as much.”

“Neither had I,” he drawled, not troubling himself to mask his annoyance at his friend’s intrusion. “I hope his presence was not a cause of discomfort for you or your aunt and uncle.”

“Oh no!” Wishing to quickly dispel his concerns, she protested such a thought. Even if they were in all actuality correct. “It was unexpected, but not unpleasant to dine with him once again.”

For a brief moment, Mr. Darcy toyed with the idea of making a joke about how terrible of liar she was, but quickly decided against it, choosing instead to pursue further conversation. “Georgiana quite enjoyed our dinner as well. In fact, she wished to call today in hopes of securing your promise to attend the theater with us.”

“Oh! I… I… I am not sure that would be in anyone’s best interest,” she protested, her color rising as she unconsciously glanced about them, almost as if assuring herself that no others were about who could overheard their conversation.

“Whyever not?” he asked, finally turning to face her directly, determined to show her that he spoke in earnest.

“Mr. Darcy,” she sighed; her words tense despite the quietness of her tone, but the sadness in her eyes unmistakable. “Surely, Sir, you realize such a display is dangerous to us all. I am in no position to make such an appearance and in a venue which may contain...” At this, her voice trailed off and she turned away from his piercing gaze, grasping fiercely to her composure as she alluded to the unspeakable.

“You must allow me to disagree, madam.”

At this, she turned to him once more, this time in surprise. There was no denying the intensity with which he watched her. “I see no reason a good friend of my sister should not accompany us to the theater. Our box provides us with a fair amount of privacy and an excellent view of the stage. We would be honored to have you all as our guests.” That he wished to say even more was obvious, but he chose instead to end his protest simply with, “Please.”

Then waiting on pins and needles, he studied her closely as she struggled to respond, the myriad of thoughts running through her mind written plainly upon her face. Finally she replied only that she would need to discuss the matter with her aunt and uncle before she could answer. Willing to accept this in the interim, he thanked her for her consideration before returning his attention to the water’s edge, a light smile on his face as he watched his sister be scolded by little Sophia Gardiner for not breaking the bread into small enough pieces; a scolding his sister accepted with all the seriousness and consideration demanded in lieu of such an egregious faux pas.

Glancing briefly to his companion, he saw that Elizabeth too was wearing a slight smile, her attention also appearing to be focused on her young cousin and friend. “The ducks are very serious business, you see,” Elizabeth explained, having sensed that she was being watched.

“I can see that,” he replied, turning his attention once more towards the bank.

“Sophie is an expert in duck feeding. I fear even I cannot live up to such standards, and poor Georgiana has not a hope.”

“A terrible shame, indeed.”

“Oh?”

“I too am a master at duck feeding and find I cannot keep company with those who are not. I shall be quite saddened to cast Georgiana from our home.”

This finally caused Elizabeth to laugh, dispelling the tension which had been lingering between. “A shame, indeed.”

“It is nice to see Georgiana enjoying herself so,” he then commented. “She has rarely had the chance to be about small children.”

“ _Now that_ is indeed a shame.”

“Oh?”

“Children are such a joy to be around. They are so free, so creative. Their imaginations running wild, dreaming up adventures and stories far more fantastical than any one could find in a book.”

“But are you not a great admirer of books?” he asked in confusion.

“I am, indeed. But I have yet to find one whose imaginings compare with that of little Thomas,” here she nodded to the young boy picking up pebbles from the shore of the lake, examining each closely before either casting it back to the ground or putting it in his pocket. “Pirates, dragons, fairies, and elves all in one story! Why, the Bard himself could not begin to compare!”

“That I must indeed grant you. I can see now why _Gulliver’s Travels_ is among your favorites.”

Blushing slightly at finding he had remembered such a detail, Elizabeth nodded quietly in agreement. “And what of your favorites, Sir?”

“I quite enjoy histories,” he answered and when questioned as to why he favored those, he explained, “I believe much of who we are as a people, as a country is influenced by our past; more so than most care to admit.”

“I find I must agree, our past is always present. It surrounds us everywhere we go; tis undeniable.” And all at once, her visage fell; the full implications of her words, spoken merely in passing as part of a casual conversation, struck her forcibly. Her train of thought quickly becoming apparent to Mr. Darcy.

“I agree.” Turning to face her once again, he waited until he had her full attention before continuing. “But while our past shapes who we are today, I do not believe it dictates our tomorrow. Man’s free will can never be underestimated when looking towards the future.”

In the silence that followed, each observed the other closely; he hoping she was able to discern the meaning behind his sentiment, and she seeking to understand what he was about, both in terms of his words and in regard to his continuing presence in her life despite all that had befallen her.

In a whisper she persisted, “The past cannot be ignored.”

“Nor the future sacrificed upon its altar.”

As they stood in silence, each staring intently at one another, Mr. Darcy could feel his breathing shallow, his heart beating heavily, and in a trance he watched as her lips parted, drawing a shaky breath. The pinkness of her cheeks were certainly no longer the result of the chill in the air, and his heart seemed to stop beating completely as he watched her gaze drop momentarily to his lips before she reddened even further and returned her eyes to his.

“Lizzy?”

The sudden sound of her name cut heavily through the thickness about them, pulling them both sharply from their daze and reminding them that they were still standing in a public walk, surrounded by others. He taking a deep breath to steady his nerves as she turned towards the voice that had called her.

“Jane!”

“Mr. Darcy!”

“Miss Bennet!” He exclaimed as he turned to find that it was indeed Miss Jane Bennet who was approaching them, three children walking along beside her. “It is a great pleasure to see you again, Miss Bennet.”

“You as well, Sir,” she replied as she rose from her curtsey.

“I trust you are well?” He then asked, unconsciously allowing his guise of bored indifference to fall into place, masking the true extent of his discomposure.

“I am, thank you, Sir.” After inquiring after his health and receiving confirmation that all was well, she then turned to Elizabeth, declaring, “I had not expected to see you today, Lizzy, though I am very happy to find you enjoying the morning air.”

“Yes,” gesturing towards the lake, she explained, “I was quite pleased when Aunt informed me that she wished to bring the children here to feed the ducks. You know I cannot resist the temptations of the outdoors.”

“Oh yes! Hello, Aunt!” Jane called as she waved towards the shore, having finally spotted her relations who were just beginning to make their way back up the slope.

“Hello, Jane! So very good to see you this morning,” Mrs. Gardiner greeted once her small group had gained the walk. Then turning to smile at the children accompanying her niece added, “And let me guess, you must be Marcus, Jeremy, and Lydia.” Receiving surprised, happy smiles from the Daventry children as she correctly identified each, she said, “Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The arrival of Aunt Madeline allotted both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth the time needed to fully gather their wits, and when presented with the opportunity, Mr. Darcy watched as Elizabeth introduced Jane and Georgiana. As the two greeted each other politely, he quietly observed the pleading glance Elizabeth cast towards her aunt, silently begging for assistance in bringing this impromptu reunion to a rapid conclusion.

Receiving the message loud and clear, Mrs. Gardiner wasted little time in making their excuses. “I am terribly sorry to do so, but I fear we must return home, Jane. The children have been out of doors for quite a while now.”

“Of course! My apologies for keeping you.”

“No, no. No need for that. We greatly anticipate your visit on Sunday.”

“As do I.” Then turning to the Darcys, Jane made her farewells. “It was very good to see you again, Mr. Darcy, and a great pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Darcy.”

“Thank you,” they answer in unison, and the two parties parted ways, Jane and her charges continuing along the walk while the Gardiners and Darcys returned to their carriages. Before making their farewells, Mrs. Gardiner broached the subject of the theater, having apparently received the invitation from Georgiana while by the lake.

“Allow me to thank you on behalf of my husband and niece for your generous invitation. I shall of course have to discuss it with Mr. Gardiner, but I shall be sure to send a note as soon as may be possible.”

“We thank you for your consideration,” Mr. Darcy responded. “I do hope we shall have the pleasure of your company,” he then added, determined to make his thoughts on the matter clear to both Mrs. Gardiner and her niece.

With bows and curtsies exchanged and each group settled into the confines of their carriage, Mr. Darcy released the heavy sigh which he had been repressing since Jane’s arrival, interrupting the charged tête-à-tête he had been sharing with Elizabeth: an exchange which had left him quite shaken at coming far too close to exposing his true self.

*****PnP*****

When Jane arrived on Sunday for her weekly visit with the Gardiners, she found her aunt and sister at work in the sitting room, stitching together the minor repairs often required of children’s clothes. After greeting one another cheerfully, Jane was happy to take up the favorite shirt of little Thomas and set to work repairing the tear in his sleeve as the three chatted amicably.

“I trust the children are well?” Aunt Madeline asked, expressing her pleasure at having finally met the Daventry children.

“Yes, they are all quite well, and they too enjoyed meeting you both at last. They have heard much about you both and were so very happy to finally have faces to match the names.”

“They do seem to be such sweet children,” Elizabeth added, although to be honest she would hardly recognize them should they meet again, her attention at the time having been heavily consumed with her own discomfort.

“They are, truly,” and for a minute Jane paused, leaving Elizabeth in no doubt as to what she would say next. It was a conversation which she had been dreading since first seeing Jane in the park, for there was surely no way the matter would not be addressed when next they spoke. “It was a pleasure to make Miss Darcy’s acquaintance as well.”

Swallowing heavily against the lump in her throat, Elizabeth simply responded, “Yes, she quite enjoyed meeting you as well.”

“I must say I was quite surprised to see you speaking with Mr. Darcy. I was not aware you and he had become reacquainted.”

“Yes,” she answered, embarrassed to hear her voice crack as she did so; the lump in her throat growing exponentially in size as she prepared to explain his reappearance in her life. “We have only recently had occasion to find ourselves in company.”

Jane’s attempts to keep her curiosity hidden were all for naught, for Elizabeth could not fail to detect the true depths of her wonderment at this development, “Oh?”

Since their day in the park, Elizabeth had been forced to face the uncomfortable, yet inevitable reality of the situation. She had deluded herself in believing she would be able to hide the truth from her closest sister, especially as the Darcys appeared to be becoming an increasing presence in her life. Although her encounter with the gentleman had left her shaken and confused, she knew that this was hardly the last time they would have cause to be in one another’s company. As such, Jane could not possibly be kept in the dark for long concerning their acquaintance. And finally resolving herself to as much, it was in the early hours of the morning that Elizabeth had decided to be honest with Jane, at least as far as that gentleman was concerned.

“Pray, forgive me, Jane. I have not been entirely truthful with you concerning my return to London.” Then pausing to absorb her sister’s response to such news, observed, “Ah, I see you have already suspected as much.”

“Pray, do not misunderstand my silence,” Jane then begged, reaching to take her sister’s hand. “I did not wish to force you into speaking of that which may be painful to you. I trusted that you would confide in me when you felt better prepared to do so.”

“Oh, Jane! You are too good!” Elizabeth laughed, quickly blinking away the tears that threatened to fall as she gently squeezed her sister’s hand. Then drawing a heavy sigh, Elizabeth finally swallowed her fear and settled her gaze fully upon Jane as she stated, “‘Twas Mr. Darcy who discovered me. He is the friend who helped see me safely reunited with Uncle Edward.”

“But how?” Jane asked. “Was it as you said?”

“Yes,” was all Elizabeth would say, unwilling to attempt a repeat of her prior explanation.

“But why did he not assist you in returning to Longbourn, to our family with whom he was already acquainted?”

“Jane, you yourself witnessed how poorly I had fared. Surely you understand why I could not have returned to Longbourn in such a state.”

Nodding begrudgingly in agreement, Jane still persisted, “Mama is terribly worried for you, Lizzy. I have had yet another letter from her expressing her concerns for your welfare. Surely we cannot keep the news of your safety from her.”

“We hopefully shall not have to for much longer. I am more myself with each passing day, and it is my intention to seek a position in the new year.” That this announcement was certainly news to Aunt Madeline was clear, as she quickly looked up from her sewing and stared in surprise at Elizabeth.

“Then we may alert her to your presence in London and assure her that all is well?”

Though less enthusiastic in her response, Elizabeth at the very least allowed, “Well, we shall have to see just where I shall be.”

Nodding quietly in agreement, Jane then returned her attention to the garment in her hand, working quietly as she pondered on all she had heard. After a few moments, she return her attention to her sister, asking, “May I ask, Lizzy, why you did not wish to tell me of Mr. Darcy’s involvement?”

“Pray, know only that I meant to protect you.” At Jane’s quizzical gaze, she explained, “I feared that discussing Mr. Darcy would only serve to call forth memories of Mr. Bingley. I did not wish to burden you unduly with memories of the gentleman.”

“Lizzy,” she chided, although the sting of any reproach Jane could muster was promptly undermined by the blush that spread upon her cheeks at the mention of the gentleman’s name. That and her inability to meet her sister’s gaze as she spoke. “You know I am perfectly satisfied that he never had any design of engaging my affection, and I assure you that, should I have occasion to once again be in his company, I have now learnt to enjoy his conversation as an agreeable and sensible young man, without having a wish beyond it. You have no need to be concerned for me.”

The lady doth protest too much, methinks. But despite Elizabeth conviction that Jane was still far from being free of love’s spell, she was determined to honor her sentiments. Deciding however to refrain from discussing her own recent encounters with the gentleman, she then turned the conversation to Miss Darcy, explaining that they had been introduced following Elizabeth’s arrival in London and expressing her pleasure at being able to now call Georgiana a friend.

“She is a sweet girl,” Aunt Madeline added, finally interjecting in the ladies’ conversation. “We are quite anticipating their company at the theater.”

“That sounds lovely,” Jane observed.

Elizabeth’s sentiments, however, were quite the opposite.

*****PnP*****

“I truly do not believe this to be necessary,” Elizabeth protest as they walked along the seemingly endless row of shops. “I do not require new gloves nor a new bonnet for a visit to the theater.”

“Yes, my dear, I assure you I _did_ hear you the first three times you have said so, but I believe that it is actually very important that you have properly fitted attire for the theater. Especially since we shall be attending in the Darcy’s box.”

Undeterred by her aunt’s insistence, she again attempted to present her case against the pending engagement. “I still must protest. I believe this visit to the theater, and with the Darcys no less, to be very ill-advised,” her voice growing quiet as she spoke, allowing only her aunt walking directly beside her to hear her. “Such a public display, with so much of Society likely to be present, places us all in a perilous position, and I should hate to see you and uncle or the Darcys be burdened with such censure if I were to be discovered.”

“Lizzy,” Mrs. Gardiner responded with a similar consideration for their surroundings, “surely you recognize that Mr. Darcy is a man of great discernment and reason. We can trust that he would not risk exposing himself or his sister to such scandal if he truly believed such to be a possibility. Nor would your uncle and I risk seeing you hurt in any way.

“Of course I know that, Aunt.”

“And it pains me so to see you passing each day secreted away at home. An evening at the theater in the company of family and good friends is just the thing for your well-being right now. Worry not; we shall arrive in time to move directly to Mr. Darcy’s box, spend a pleasurable evening enjoying their excellent company, and make our farewells before the lights are restored.”

With a sigh, Elizabeth admitted that she was excited by the prospect of seeing a play, a passion which she had been unable to indulge in since the previous winter. And while yes, she did find herself willing to trust the judgement of both her relative and Mr. Darcy, the fear of what could befall them heavily outweighed her faith. “I still must protest, but I fear doing so shall only serve to waste my breath.” Then with a resigned smile of surrender, she proclaimed, “Then, to the milliner’s shop we go.”

An hour or so later, the ladies were pleased with their progress, having purchased two pairs of gloves and a new bonnet for Elizabeth. All that remained was a quick stop in Mr. Gardiner’s preferred shop for gentlemen’s accessories to purchase a new pair of theater gloves for him as well before returning to the house in time for lunch and games with the children. Greeted by the tinkling of the bell above the door, the two women scanned the shop floor, searching for Mr. Hastings.

“Hmmm, he must be in the storeroom,” Mrs. Gardiner speculated, unsurprised to find the shop’s owner absent from his post at the counter. “Let me see if I may have luck in finding him. I will be but a moment.”

As her aunt moved towards the back of the store, Elizabeth turned her attention on the display of scarves hanging before the shop’s window; a dark maroon one capturing her attention as she considered its suitability as a gift for her uncle. Removing her gloves to run the material through her hands, she was pleased to find it soft and comforting to her touch; a very fine scarf indeed. Unbidden, an image of Mr. Darcy, complete with the handsome red scarf draped about his neck, rose in her mind’s-eye, starling her greatly and causing her to abruptly release it. Shaking her head in an attempt to clear such a thought from her mind, she turned away quickly only to be further surprised to find another gentleman standing close beside her, watching her intently.

“Pray, accept my pardon, madam,” he drawling, taking another step closer as he openly gazed upon her figure. At once, Elizabeth was set ill-at-ease by the way he regarded her and found herself taking a quick step backwards in an attempt to place more distance between them. But he only responded by following her movements; his smile becoming increasingly lecherous as he looked at her.

“My, my, I certainly would not expect to meet a lady such as yourself in a gentlemen’s shop,” he mumbled quietly as he stepped even closer. “Why, I have been so unfortunate of late, always seeming to miss the opportunity of enjoying your company.”

Her skin now prickling with gooseflesh, her ears beginning to ring, Elizabeth could feel the darkness creeping in upon her. “I believe you mistake me for another, sir. If you please…” she replied, louder than she had anticipated, as her feet finally found the will to move her away from the imposing figure looming before her.

Yet he pursued her still, matching each retreating step with one of his own, always maintaining some distance but still close enough to touch her should he choose. “Oh, I am quite certain I am not,” he responded quietly. Then in a whisper insisted, “Do be sure to await my call this evening. We shall enjoy a most pleasurable evening together, I am sure.”

And like a wave rising from the sea, a powerful swell of anger rose within her, drawing her fears, her rage, her pain from the depths of her being. Standing tall, her posture rigid, her features stony, she leveled her gaze at the stranger and declared in voice as quiet as it was cold, “I believe you are quite mistaken, Sir. For I am certain, beyond all doubt, there exists nothing about your mind, your person, or your character which would make your company pleasurable for any woman, least of all myself.”

“I beg your pardon?!” He exclaimed, his face hardening in response to her unequivocal rejection.

But she was not granted the opportunity, nor desired one, to expound upon her rebuff, for the voices of her aunt and Mr. Hastings could now be heard as they returned to the shop floor; the arrival of observers forcing the gentleman to move a respectable distance from the lady, his gaze steely as he regarded her.

“I thank you for your assistance, Mr. Hastings. Mr. Gardiner will be quiet pleased indeed!”

“A very good day to you, Mrs. Gardiner.”

Returning to her niece’s side, she was suddenly struck by the pale complexion and visible tremor of the young woman’s fists, clenched tightly at her sides. Following her gaze, she was further astounded to see a tall, finely dressed gentleman standing several yards away; his expression one of anger. Gently taking Elizabeth’s arm, she guided her from the store, thankful to note that the gentleman was not following them as they began to make their way along the walk.

“Elizabeth?”

But her niece would not answer, her jaw set and her eyes fixed firmly upon the Gardiner carriage, waiting for them at the corner. Drawing closer, Elizabeth pulled sharply from her aunt’s grasp and rushed towards the conveyance, mounting the steps without acknowledgement of the footman waiting to assist her. With her aunt quickly settled beside her and the door closed, Elizabeth’s hardened façade crumbled at once, leaving a very confused and equally troubled Mrs. Gardiner hugging her sobbing niece tightly against her.


	23. Chapter 23

It was the sensation of tiny goose bumps dancing across his skin which first penetrated the darkness, calling him once more from a restful slumber to greet the new day. The cold air, accompanied by the soft light of a November morn, gently coaxed his mind and body to wake. Stretching his arms above his head, he arched his back and drew a deep breath, allowing the fresh air to fill his lungs and stir his blood, before then stretching each leg, finishing with a wiggling of his toes tucked warmly beneath the blankets. Feeling more rested than he could long since remember, a pleased smile graced his lips as he sighed once more and settled back into the warmth of his bed.

As a flash of light upon his eyelids then caught his attention, he frowned slightly, confused as to why the bed curtains were open on a cold autumn morning. Finally opening his eyes, his suspicions were confirmed; he had indeed neglected to close them the night before. But as to why he had allowed himself such an oversight was quickly explained, for the soft, sleepy sigh of his bedmate drew his attention. Turning to gaze upon her, he was greeted with the most beautiful sight on which he had ever cast his eyes: his beloved resting peacefully beside him. The bed sheet, having long slid from her shoulders, left much of her back exposed to his greedy stare; her dark curls tousled and unruly where they lay across her pillow. Curled up like a kitten, as she often did when she slept, her arms tucked beneath her pillow, her face turned into it.

The glow of her skin in the new morning light set his heart racing, his body now becoming fully awake and very aware of the woman asleep beside him. The delicate freckle on her right shoulder drew his gaze at once. Oh, how he adored that tiny little birthmark, always taunting him mercilessly as it peeked from beneath the neckline of her evening gowns. Unable to resist its siren’s call, he turned to his side and scooted closer, careful not to disturb her slumber just yet; then leaning forward, placed a gentle kiss on the mark.  
Hearing her sigh once more, he could not contain his smile as his lips ghosted over her skin, seeking the mark at the back of her neck; the one hidden just beneath her hair which only he knew existed. This drew from her the slightest of shivers, but no so as to draw her from her sleep.

Breathing deeply, he filled his senses with her; the light floral smell of her hair mingling with the sweet scent of her skin caused his head to swim, his desire for her building rapidly. Needing the taste of her upon his lips, he placed another gentle, tickle of kiss at the nape of her neck before slowly sliding further down her back, a trail of light kisses tracing a line along her soft skin; his warm, moist breath causing her skin to prickle and another shudder to make her body tremble slightly beneath his ministrations.

As the sounds of a sleepy moan reached his ears, he grinned in triumph at having achieved his goal; she was most certainly waking now. Slow and deliberate in his movements, he pretended not to notice, instead continuing his sensual exploration of her body; his hands now joining his lips as they traced the lush curve of her hip. Pushing the bed sheet down a little further, his gaze sought the lone freckle which graced her right hip; brushing the tip of his nose against it lightly before placing another sweet kiss upon it, drawing another pleasured sigh from his lovely bedmate.

His body now straining for her, he returned his lips to her neck, seeking and finding the sensitive hollow behind her ear. Wrapping his arms about her, he pressed his own naked body against her, letting her feel the powerful effect she alone held over him; his body responding with an intensity, a fire only she could ignite. The sensation of her skin against his drew from him deep, guttural groan.

The sound of his groan echoed in the still darkness, startling him from his sleep. Opening his eyes, he was met not with the bright morning sun in which he had been bathed, but with the dim, dusky shadow cast by his bed curtains. Turning quickly to his side, he was not met with visions of a sleeping Elizabeth, as he had been in his dream, but by a bed empty of naught but himself; his bed sheets and duvet tousled askew, the signs of another night marked by restless and fitful sleep. But for however intangible the images of his dream were, his body’s reaction to them most certainly was not, and with a groan of frustration, he pulled the pillow beside him over his head and tried desperately to will away the vibrant, sensual images of his dream. But the fantasy eventually proved to be too strong, even for the well-disciplined self-control of Fitzwilliam Darcy.

*****PnP*****

Staring absently out the window, Mr. Darcy paid little mind the bustling activity surrounding his carriage as it made its way slowly along Gracechurch Street. Pleased for the opportunity to call on his own, as Georgiana was honoring a previous engagement with their aunt Lady Matlock, he was quite appreciative of the time it allotted him to gather his thoughts before seeing Elizabeth again. Discomfited still following their last encounter, the intense exchange in the park, and plagued by the lingering effects of his provocative dream that morning, the twenty minutes or so of solitude offered by the carriage ride from Berkeley Square was just what he needed to compose himself. Calling under the guise of finalizing their plans for the theater, what he truly sought was the opportunity to address any unease Elizabeth may still be experiencing without the presence of Georgiana to complicate the matter.

Arriving at his destination, he quickly debarked and made his way to the Gardiner home, being granted entry after several knocks. But upon crossing the threshold and finding Mrs. Morris visibly surprised to see him, he could not help but feel as if there was something amiss, a tension in the air which was unnatural to the house. His suspicions growing only deeper as his request to call upon the ladies of the house was met with a stuttering reply from the housekeeper, saying that she would see if they were available to receive his call.

In tense silence, he then waited as the lady of the house was fetched from abovestairs, left standing alone in the foyer of the tradesman’s home as he had not even been invited to await them in the morning room. When Mrs. Gardiner then made her way down the stairs several minutes later, he could tell at once that all truly was not well, the stiffness in her posture and absence of cheer in her expression confirming his suspicions.

“Pray, Sir,” she greeted, gesturing towards the hallway in invitation to at last follow her to the morning room. Once there and the door closed behind them, she apologized for Elizabeth’s absence and assumed her place on the settee, signaling for him to do the same.

“Mrs. Gardiner,” he began, deciding it best to dispel with the pleasantries and cut right to the quick. “What is the matter?”

“Mr. Darcy, it is with a heavy heart that I must tell you our fears have been realized.”

Shaking his head slightly in puzzlement, he asked, “Whatever do you mean?”

Her sadness, now clear and weighing heavily upon her, instilled at once a great sense of foreboding in the gentleman. “Good god! What has happened?”

“She has been discovered.”

Stunned into silence by such a revelation, Mr. Darcy at first could do no more than stare blankly at the woman seated before him; his mind spinning as his heart turn cold and heavy within his chest, sinking deeper into himself than he had yet experienced in his eight-and-twenty years. “Discovered?”

“Aye. In a shop.”

At once he was propelled to his feet, her words setting him pacing as he demanded, rather ungentlemanly, “Tell me all.”

Had such an ill-mannered display come on any other day or from any other gentleman, Mrs. Gardiner would surely have been well-incensed and well-justified in refusing to entertain such a show of rudeness. But as she had in time come to learn much about the gentleman now pacing before her, and perhaps understanding his motivations even better than he, she was willing to overlook such a slight and share her story.

“Two day ago, Elizabeth and I had traveled out, seeking a few new items in preparation for our visit to the theater. During our last stop, a visit to the haberdasher’s in order to purchase new gloves for Mr. Gardiner, she was approached by a man who… insinuated that he knew her.” Pausing for a moment to allow Mr. Darcy the chance to grasp her meaning, which came about quickly, she then continued, “When she insisted that he was mistaken, he would not be deterred and made it rather clear that… well, that he was well-assured in his knowledge of her.”

The vagueness of this recounting was not enough to satisfy Mr. Darcy’s need for information, however, and he quickly set about asking more pressing questions. “How did he claim to know her? How can we be sure, absolutely certain that he meant…?” Unwilling to say more, he allowed the rest of his question to hang unspoken between them.

“Mr. Darcy, I am sure you will agree that my niece is quite the astute young woman. There is no doubt in our minds as to what precisely he was referring,” she replied, her tone signaling that no matter how he asked, there were some pieces to her tale to which she would not dignify with repeating.

Clearly displeased with her answer, he would not be deterred and pressed on still. “Who was he? Do we know?”

“We do not.”

Growing even further agitated still, he then demanded to know where this encounter had occurred. For although he would not let slip any indications to it, his concern surrounding the identity of this mysterious gentleman, who was certainly no gentleman at all, were mounting quickly. More specifically, fears that the man in question could very well be his own cousin, a man for whom Mr. Darcy most certainly believed capable of behaving in such a lecherous manner. And upon receiving the name of the establishment, his alarm rose to new heights, as the shop was one which he has known Edward to visit in the past. “Tell me of him, of his appearance.”

Now it was Mrs. Gardiner’s time to stare intently at the young man making her positively dizzy with his pacing. For it was becoming increasingly clear to her that there existed something which he was not telling her, and she allowed herself a few moments of consideration on whether or not to press him. But at last, she chose only to say, “In truth, I did not take the time to study him closely. My only concern was to remove Lizzy from his presence as quickly as I could.”

“Perhaps if I could speak with Miss Bennet, she could provide me with a description of him.”

“Mr. Darcy, I am afraid that will be quite impossible at the moment.”

This finally made him still as he turned to look upon the lady. “How is that?”

“As you can imagine, such an encounter her has left her quite shaken and exceedingly disheartened. She has taken to her bed since our return.”

Uncertain of how to respond to this bit of information, Mr. Darcy was left will little else to say but, “I see.”

“I believe it best that she be allowed to her solitude at this time, as arrangements are being made. Pray, do accept my apologies on her behalf in being unable to take her leave properly, and know she means no disrespect in doing so. I am sure she shall feel the loss of your company as well as Miss Darcy’s deeply.”

“I beg your pardon?” He asked, a sharp, piercing pain radiating throughout his chest upon hearing her words. “Arrangements?”

“Yes, unfortunately we can no longer deny the dangers of her remaining in London. We all are in agreement that it would be best to remove her from Town and send her to stay with my sister in Cornwall until such time as she may be reunited safely with her mother and sisters.”

“Cornwall?”

“Yes. I do apologize for not writing to you sooner, but as I am sure you understand, we will be unable to attend the theater with you and Miss Darcy tomorrow. Pray, do pass our regrets on to your sister.”

“Of course,” he murmured, the heavy shock under which he was laboring obvious. “I thank you for sharing this information with me, and I will be sure to make an excuse to Georgiana concerning Miss Bennet’s departure from Town.”

“We thank you, Sir. For it would hurt Lizzy deeply to believe Georgiana thinks ill of her. Or vice versa.”

“That would be quite impossible, I assure you,” and making his farewell, he made his way from the house in a daze, coming to a halt before his carriage and turning to gaze up at the cold stone façade of house for a few moments; his eyes searching for her in the windows above. Then resigning himself to the realization that he would not see her, turned and mounted the steps, spending the entirety of the trip back to Berkeley Square in bewilderment. And when Miss Darcy returned home later in the day, she was quite surprised, and equally concerned, to learn from Mr. Hawkins that the master of the house had already retired to his chamber for the evening, requiring neither food nor his valet until the morning.

*****PnP*****

The quiet tapping of rain drops against the pane sounded unusually loud, seeming to echo in the stillness of the chamber. One by one they trailed their way down the glass, pooling momentarily against the window frame before continuing their journey down to the gardens below; Elizabeth’s finger lazily tracing their path along the cold pane of glass as they fell. Curled up in the chair beside the window, her dressing gown and blanket wrapped tightly about her, she had been staring out into the gray London sky for most of the morning. Her thoughts allowed to wander, they had taken her to places both far and near, from memories of better times at Longbourn to a disastrous proposal at Kent, and from dreams of a summer trip to the Lakes to the brutal realities of King Street. And many, many times, it had taken her back just a couple of days to Mr. Hastings’ shop.

She had been proven correct in her desires to remain hidden; her fear of being recognized an all too justified of a concern. Now it had happened, and now… now she had been forced to face the truth she had hoped would never come to be.

_“Elizabeth?” was all it took for her composure to crumble, for the darkness to overtake her; clinging desperately to her aunt as she cried, as all the progress she had made came undone and all her dreams of a peaceful future turned to dust._

_Arriving home, she rushed from the carriage as soon as it had stopped and rapidly climbed the stairs to her chamber, seeking privacy before others in the house could see her. Aunt Madeline close behind followed her into her chamber and promptly locked the door to ensure they would not be disturbed. “What happened, my dear? Tell me!”_

_“He knew me! He knew me from that horrid, horrid place!” She cried, pulling furiously at the ribbons of her bonnet as she sought to divest herself of her outwear, all of her clothes feeling tainted, filthy after the way he had looked at her._

_Aunt Madeline, stunned to hear this, was unable to respond at first, but upon see the frenetic way Elizabeth was wrestling with her pelisse, quickly set aside her shock and grabbed at Elizabeth’s hands, concerned her niece may reinjure herself if she did not intervene. “Here, allow me,” she said and was relieved to find Elizabeth agreeable in accepting her assistance. Then encouraging her to take a few deep breathes, she led her niece to sit upon the bed and calm herself before trying again to explain what had happened._

_“That man,” Elizabeth began, her tears already starting to flow more heavily, “he recognized me.”_

_“What did he say?”_

_“He talked of… of…” Then taking a deep breath and rallying her strength, she compelled her voice to repeat the horrible words which had been said to her. “He spoke of desiring my company and asking that I… that I… await him tonight.”_

_“Oh, Lizzy!” Wrapping her arms around her, Mrs. Gardiner held her niece close, rocking her gently as she continued._

_“I tried to move away from him, but every step I took, he took one, too. And the way he looked at me! I had hoped beyond hope that I would never again be made to feel so… so… unclean, so filthy! But it is just as I have feared! I will never be free of this! **I** , who have done nothing wrong, am made to bear the burden of those actions taken against me! Tis **I** who am made to suffer for their sins!”_

_“I know all seems dark now, Lizzy, but it will pass.”_

_“No! No it will not!” she cried, her bitterness and despair quickly giving way to resigned defeat. “I am ruined. There remains no place for me, no future.”_

_“Pray, my dear,” Aunt Madeline begged, her own tears no longer held back, “do not allow this to bring you so low. I know no stronger than you, and you will defeat this. I know all seems dark now, but pray remember: ‘tis always the darkest before the dawn. We shall find a way to keep you safe, and we shall see you returned to the light. I promise you this.”_

The sound of a gentle rapping on her door drew Elizabeth from her thoughts. Knowing that knock well, she granted permission to enter, finding the tender smile of Aunt Madeline as soothing and reassuring as always as she entered, carrying with her a tray of tea. Accepting the cup with a slight smile and quiet thank you, Elizabeth asked after the children.

“They are well. Nurse White has just put them down for their nap, and I thought it would be the perfect time to see how you are faring, my dear.”

“I am well, thank you,” she answered before taking a sip of tea.

Assuming a seat upon the bed, her aunt allowed a few moments of comfortable silence, before saying, “I received a call from Mr. Darcy this morning.”

“He called?” Elizabeth asked in surprise, having paid little attention at the time to the sound of the doorbell ringing earlier in the morning.

“Yes, he was quite disappointed to hear that we would not be joining him and his sister at the theater tomorrow.” Pausing for a moment, she allowed Elizabeth the chance to respond, but when her niece appeared unlikely to offer anything in return, she continued, “But not as much as when he heard you are to be leaving London.”

“You told him?” she asked in great surprise, flushing bright with embarrassment.

“Come now, Lizzy, surely you recognize that he would have to learn of it at some point.”

With a resigned sigh, she nodded and turned her eyes once again to the window, sipping quietly at her tea as she wondered what he must be thinking of her now, of this whole scheme into which he had insisted on joining. If only he had heeded her advice, they all may have been spared the pain at ties severed and friendships lost.

“What shall he say to Georgiana?” She finally asked.

“He promised to provide her with some explanation for your absence. I feel confident that he will find a way to do so with careful consideration for her feelings… and your privacy as well.”

“I shall be quite saddened to lose her friendship, but it is in her best interest that I do so.”

“Do you not believe you shall see her again someday?”

“It is quite impossible now, is it not? No, I believe we shall all be better off once I am far from London. And the Darcys.”

With a gentle smile, Aunt Madeline rose from the bed and approached the window, patting her niece’s hand in a show of compassion and understanding. Willing to let the subject rest for now, she merely limited her response to, “Have faith, my dear, for I am sure someday you and Miss Darcy shall meet again.” _As shall you and Mr. Darcy._

*****PnP*****

In the early morning hours, the rain from the night had yielded to the light flurry of snowflakes, the first of the season. In silence he watched as they danced on the breeze, drifting gracefully towards the earth below and dissolving at once as they landed against the dampness of the window pane. Beyond it, there were but a few lone souls to be seen wandering about so early in the morn, and as the carriage sloshed and splashed through the puddles gathered in the street, Mr. Darcy found the solitude within both comforting and overwhelming.

His night had been one marked with restlessness and deep contemplation, having retired to his bed in the late hours of the night only to find a fitful sleep from which he gained little rest. When the sun had broken through the heavy curtains of his bed chamber that morning, it found him wide awake and deep in thought as he repeatedly turned his plan over and over in his mind, debating the soundness of his decision. But at last his will would not be denied, and he rose from his bed and rang for Mr. Fletcher at once.

Now, as the carriage slowed to halt outside the large brick warehouse, he took a few moments more to consider his course, one if taken would drastically alter for the rest of days the lives of all those involved. Drawing on the strength of his convictions, his belief in the rightness of his actions, and his honor as a Darcy, he then exited the carriage and walked briskly beneath the E & G sign hanging overhead, mounting the stairs two at a time as he made his way to the office above.

“Mr. Darcy to see Mr. Gardiner,” he announced, not allowing the young clerk the time to even rise from his seat before announcing himself.

“I do not believe you have an appointment, Sir.”

“I do not,” he answered simply before then approaching Mr. Gardiner’s door, signaling the young man with his walking stick to open it and announce him at once, an order Mr. Daughtry did not dare deny following his previous encounters with the wealthy gentleman from Derbyshire.

“Mr. Darcy to see you, Sir.”

“Ah yes, I am sure it is,” Mr. Gardiner responded, a grim smile settling in place as he returned his quill to the well and closed the ledger book before him. “Show him in, Robert, and then pray do see to the delivery from Jamaica. I believe the ship has just finished mooring.”

“Yes, Sir.”

As the clerk retreated from the room, closing the door behind him, the two men bowed in greeting before Mr. Gardiner quipped, “For some reason, Sir, I cannot imagine quite why, but I am not the least bit surprised to receive your call this morning.” Then gesturing towards the chair before his desk, he invited the gentleman to make himself comfortable as he pulled two glasses and a bottle of Scotch from his desk drawer. “I do believe you will agree these are in order?”

“I thank you, Sir.” Despite the earliness of the hour, he nodded in appreciation as he accepted one of the glasses and raised it to his lips; a swill of liquid courage was certainly not something he would turn away at the moment.

“I understand from Mrs. Gardiner that you called yesterday and have heard the… unfortunate news.”

“I have.”

“’Tis a shame, is it not?” Mr. Gardiner sighed, rising from his chair and strolling slowly towards the window. Standing with his back to his guest, he surveyed the scene below: a bustling port dock, teaming with workers moving to and fro as they prepared to unload their wares, a world carrying on with little regard for the toils and tears of each individual life. “It makes one wonder how the world could be so cruel, so unjust.”

His words struck Mr. Darcy more forcibly than he could have imagined, as they were the very words which had come to him time and again during the night. Cruel. Unjust. Injustice. How a woman so innocent, so kind and so full of life should be forced to bear the weight, the consequences of another’s misdeeds. It was an injustice for which he ultimately knew he would not, could not stand.

“But Lizzy shall persevere, I have no doubt of that,” Mr. Gardiner then added. “She needs but the time and space in which to do so. Both of which she shall have in Cornwall.”

“But what if there existed another way?”

“I beg your pardon?” Mr. Gardiner asked, turning to look upon his guest in disbelief; his skeptical gaze falling firmly on Mr. Darcy.

“I believe there are other means for securing Miss Bennet’s safety, and that of her mother and sisters, which will not require her to be cast from society, hidden away in the far corners of the country.”

“And what, pray tell, do you believe to be such a solution?”

Leveled his gaze upon his host, Mr. Darcy responded in a tone as steady as it was decisive, “Marriage.”

“Marriage?!” Mr. Gardiner blurted, his astonishment at such a suggestion evident. “And to whom do you believe I would agree to her marrying? Whom do you offer up in such sacrifice? Yourself?”

“Yes.”

The silence following his pronouncement was deafening, only the distant shouts from the workers below penetrated the stillness of the room, the air growing thick with mounting tension. As Mr. Darcy sat in quiet apprehension, awaiting the response of the older gentleman, he was quick to realize that his scheme may not be accepted as readily as he had hoped.

“Young man, have you taken leave of your senses?” Mr. Gardiner finally asked. “I know you harbor a tendre for my niece. In truth, I consider such a testament to your character and intelligence.”

Mr. Darcy’s unabashed surprise at hearing this was undeniable, and he struggled for several moments to gather his thoughts and rise above the embarrassment now flooding his being. And in doing so, his natural instinct to protect his self took hold, drawing into place his stony mask of disapprobation. He had arrived that morning expecting a civilized and congruous discussion of his plan, not to be met with a return of Mr. Gardiner’s fierce protectiveness and willingness to disregard propriety when it came to such.

But Mr. Gardiner, hardened from years of negotiation and competition in his trade, was not one to be so easily diverted by a scowling countenance. As such, he continued in expressing his reasons for rejecting the proposal on the spot. “But I believe you are… misguided in such a show of devotion. You forget that Lizzy is a woman who, though the guile and malicious actions of others, is teetering upon the precipice of irreversible ruination. Marriage to a gentleman such as yourself will not shield her from scandal! Indeed, it will only expose her to far greater scrutiny and risk of exposure!”

“Mr. Gardiner, I know you do not believe me so foolish as to underestimate the full implications of Miss Bennet’s situation. In truth, I am sure you can have little doubt as to the extensive consideration which I have given this matter,” the icy cut of his tongue unmistakable as he spoke.

“Yes, I can see that. You have given the matter great consideration and determined how it may best be utilized to advance your own interests where my niece is concerned, regardless of the further peril in which it places her!”

“I would do no such thing!” Mr. Darcy protested, incensed by the accusation that he would ever take advantage of a woman’s desperate situation, especially that of Miss Elizabeth Bennet, to satisfy his own needs. “I believe if you will but hear me out, Sir, I shall explain my reasons for suggesting such. And I do believe once you have heard what I have to offer, you may rethink your position.”

Again a tense silence was allowed to settle upon them, each’s demeanor now reminiscent of a buck in the wild posturing before a challenger. At last it was Mr. Gardiner who relented, sighing resignedly as he returned to his chair behind his desk. For what true man of business dismisses a prospect out of hand without first hearing what it has to offer? “Alright then, Sir. Let me hear what you have to say.”

“I thank you for your consideration,” he began, raising his glass to his lips for another sip of courage as he prefaced his proposition first with an explanation of why he believed this to be an all-encompassing course on which they should proceed. “We have before us several matters of urgency for which we have been unable to derive solutions; how to provide Miss Bennet with a secure future being of the utmost importance to us all, is it not?”

Receiving Mr. Gardiner’s nod of agreement, he then continued, “But there is also the matter of providing safety and security for Mrs. Bennet and her daughters as well as answering Mr. Collins’ deplorable actions against Miss Bennet. These are matters which may be addressed more freely, quietly and without cause for scandal if left to the care of a husband. Would you not agree?”

“Pray, continue.” And so Mr. Gardiner sat in quiet attention as he listened to Mr. Darcy place forth the fullness of his plan. As he listened, he could not help but find his appreciation for the intelligence, reason, and thoroughness of Mr. Darcy’s mind growing exponential. And while by no means convinced as to the prudence of such a scheme, he did have to admire the possibilities it offered for resolving many of the complexities for which they had as yet been unable to resolve. But a shrewd businessman through and through, he would not hesitate to address the numerous pachyderms in the room, so to say.

When at last Mr. Darcy had completed what was undoubtedly a well-rehearsed speech, Mr. Gardiner allowed it all to hang in the space between them for several long minutes, exchanging a formidable stare with the gentleman as he considered which of his concerns to address first. Finally, he rose from his seat and once more made his way to the window, saying as he went, “One month ago today, mind you, you first entered this office, coming to tell me that you had discovered my niece while visiting a brothel.”

With his back turned to his guest, Mr. Gardiner was not afforded the opportunity to observe the distinctive bobbing of the gentleman’s cravat as he attempted to swallow his unease. “And now you sit here, asking me for her hand in marriage.”

But unwilling to allow his discomfort to be seen, Mr. Darcy chose to respond only with, “Is there some question for which I am expected to answer?”

“You are asking me to turn over my niece to your care, Mr. Darcy; to entrust Elizabeth, whom I love as if she were my own child, to the care of man who has demonstrated a great lapse in character. While I shall be eternally grateful for the discovery and return of our Lizzy, it still does not dismiss the reality of your proclivities. Am I not justified in questioning you, questioning the wisdom of placing her care in your hands, questioning the fullness of your intentions towards her?”

“What are you insinuating, Sir? If you do not express your question clearly, I fear I cannot address it.”

“We are both men of the world, Mr. Darcy, and as such know the darkness that lingers in the hearts of many. Lizzy has been hurt, deeply, by what she has endured, far more than you or I could ever understand, I am sure. But by law, a man has his rights in marriage, and there are few willing to forego such rights, regardless of their wives wishes… I will not stand to see her hurt any further.”

At such an insinuation, the insult Mr. Darcy felt was acute, and he declared in no uncertain terms, “She shall never know such violence from me, Sir. Of that I can most certainly assure you.”

“Can you? A man who has demonstrated a willingness to behave in any manner necessary to slake his own lust? A man once rejected, but who is now in a position to better force the hand of the one who scorned him? Tell me, Sir, how would you respond if such a man were to ask for your sister’s hand?”

Bristling at the accusations against his character and the humiliation in realizing the Gardiners were aware of the happenings in Hunsford, his first instinct was to bite back, to throw any and all he could in the face of a man calling into question his integrity. But of what had he to accuse him? Of being a man whose sister was among the most ridiculous and silly women he had ever met, and whose brother cared so little for his children that he did not take measures to better protect them upon his passing? But his reason prevailed, reminding him that these failings were not, in fact, the responsibilities of Mr. Gardiner. In truth, there remained no doubt in Mr. Darcy’s mind concerning how dissimilar Mr. Gardiner was from his relations, having taken up the mantle of defending his niece admirably, especially one whom many families would have cast from their homes.

Also, there was no denying his own complicity in being tempted that night, and although he knew himself to be a man of upstanding character and morality, how was he to defend himself against such a valid charge? He too would be unwilling to agree to Georgiana marrying a man whom he knew behaved in such a manner. And although he had never before, nor ever would engage in such behavior, he could not deny the appearance of such given all that had happened that night.

“I do not believe there is much I can say in defense of my actions that night, for any denial shall appear meaningless and hollow. But what I can call upon is your reason, for you to weigh what you have learned of me in these few weeks past, against what you may have believed of me before. You once accused me of underestimating what you may know of me, but I trust that you know enough to believe me a man of honor and decency, one worthy of your trust and Miss Bennet’s.”

“I find I have great trouble reconciling what I have known of you prior with what I have seen of you in these past few weeks.”

“Sir?”

“You seek to assure me that you will treat my Lizzy well; that you will honor and respect her as your wife. But we both know you have often failed to demonstrate even the slightest kindness and basic common decency to her throughout much of your acquaintance. Elizabeth has described your behavior towards not only herself but her mother and sisters, for whom you are also seeking to bring under your care, as nothing short of rude, arrogant, and condescending.

“Yes, your behavior towards Elizabeth this month past has been compassionate and admirable, but it does not erase the sins of your past behavior where our family is concerned. Can you deny that you have not always treated my sister and nieces with the utmost respect and condescension, in the manner with which a gentleman should treat ladies?”

Mr. Darcy remained quiet for several moments, turning his eyes to the glass in his hand as he unconsciously worried the inside of his cheek, his agitation reaching extremes of which he could never before remember experiencing. Finally, he answered in truth, “No. I cannot deny it.”

“But yet, you expect me to take your word, without question, that you will now and for the rest of your days honor and respect them, especially Lizzy, a lady for whom you could not look upon without disdain for the majority of your acquaintance.”

Leveling his gaze once more upon his host, he allowed, “While my history with Miss Bennet has been marked by a wealth of… misunderstandings, I can assure you that I have long since counted her among the most intelligent, most honorable women of my acquaintance. I hold her only in the highest of regards.

“As to the care of Mrs. Bennet and her daughters, I assure you that I am a man unyielding in principle and will see to their comfort and well-being as I would any member of my family. I regard the welfare of those trusted to my care among my utmost priority.”

“You say this and yet you have exhibited a willingness, when your pride is affronted and your power over another is at its greatest, to turn your back on those very same individuals entrusted to your care.”

“I beg pardon?”

“Your devotion to those for whom you care deeply is obvious. Anyone can see how you dote upon Miss Darcy, and the fact that you are even willing to offer your suit to a woman who has once rejected you but now bears the taint of ruin shows great loyalty. But yet you have in the past turned your back on others left dependent on your good graces, have you not?”

“I am afraid I know not-” And all at once the bolt of understanding struck: Wickham! Blast it all! Would he ever be free of that cad?! Seeking confirmation of his suspicion, he asked, “Is it my dealings with Mr. Wickham of which you speak?”

“Of course. I have had the whole of your tale from Lizzy. To dishonor a father’s wishes in pursuit of satisfying petty jealousies against another – are these the qualities you believe desirable in a husband for my niece?”

_The whole of your tale…_ At once, a myriad of questions flooded his mind; questions which he had not allowed himself to entertain since the night of their reunion. Had she read his letter, and if so, had he succeeded in altering her opinion of him? Of Wickham? But this was not the time for heavy contemplation on these matters as Mr. Gardiner, having seemed to exhaust his list of charges against him, ultimately arrived at the point of his expressing his concerns.

“So, you can see can you not, Mr. Darcy, why I am having such difficulty in agreeing to your proposition? To reconcile the man sitting before me, the one willing to sacrifice his own future happiness to protect a woman who does not love him, with the man whose past is marred by such egregious misdeeds against those beneath him… I find I am at a loss as to how to answer your proposal.”

Again, Mr. Darcy took a few moments to consider his response. For these charges leveled against them rang so loud as those presented by Elizabeth all those months prior in Kent. And just as they were then, several of Mr. Gardiner’s objections were undeniably based in the truth of his past behavior. “Yes, you have made your point quite clearly. I am not a man without fault, and I strive to overcome those which would leave me wanting in character and honor,” then he paused briefly as the ghost of a smirk touched his lips, “a task in which I am certain Miss Bennet will be only too willing to assist me.”

At this, Mr. Gardiner’s hardened stare softened slightly, drawing from him the faintest of smiles and a nod of agreement. “You would find such desirable in a wife?”

“It is a trait in Miss Bennet which I greatly admire. But while I am indeed guilty of several of the charges which you have justly lain at my feet, and for those I know I must make amends, there is at least one of which I am not. In regard to my dealings with Mr. Wickham, I can only say that I do not betray the trust of those who are worthy of it, and of that I hope you rest assured.”

“I am to assume then that he is not one worthy of such trust?”

“He is not.”

Nodding in acceptance of this answer for the moment, Mr. Gardiner released a quiet sigh and turned back to the window, mulling on all which had been said. While his lingering concerns on the wisdom of a match between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy were far from eased, he recognized that he was in need of more time to think on the matter, and expressing as much, he sought to bring the interview to a conclusion. “I shall take into consideration all you have said and will of course need to discuss this matter with Mrs. Gardiner. At this time, I cannot give you my answer, but if you will come again tomorrow, I believe I may be able to provide one.”

“I understand,” Mr. Darcy said as he rose to his feet, and swallowing what remained of his Scotch, he avowed to return at the same time the following morning to receive his answer. Then with a silent bow given and received, he made his way to the door, his heart still pounding painfully within his breast as he descended the stairs and climbed into the sanctuary of his carriage. With his hands shaking slightly as he adjusted his gloves, he took several calming breathes in an attempt to settle his nerves, returning to Berkeley Square with his future hazier than he had ever remembered it being before.

*****PnP*****

“Fitzwilliam?”

The touch of a hand on his arm was enough to finally startle Mr. Darcy from his thoughts, and turning quickly to the seat beside him, he found Lady Rebecca studying him curiously. Clearing his throat, he then glanced about him, noting the movement of those in the pit and surrounding boxes, signaling the arrival of intermission.

“Are you sure you are quite well, Fitzwilliam?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

“Well, while we have all been enjoying the pleasures of a most delightful comedy, I have yet to see even the slightest hint of smile crack your rather sour countenance.”

This was enough to finally draw out the smallest of smirks from the gentleman and apologizing for his appearance otherwise, assured his aunt that he was in fact enjoying the performance quite thoroughly.

Upon arriving at the theater that evening, Mr. Darcy had found the crowd gathering in the entry already surpassing the extent of his patience, causing him to questioned once again the wisdom in electing to honor his promise to Georgiana, despite the absence of their guests. She had been sorely disappointed when she had learned that the Gardiners and Miss Bennet would be unable to accompany them, the cause being attributed to a rather severe cold which Miss Bennet had developed following their outing to the park. Yet despite her disappointment, she had expressed a desire to still attend the play if her brother was agreeable, and knowing he would be driven simply mad by an evening entrenched in the confines of his home, he had acceded.

It was with great relief that they had encountered Lord and Lady Matlock while making their way through the entry hall, who had promptly invited the siblings to join them in the Fitzwilliam box, an invitation which they had been happy to accept. With their aunt and uncle engaged in entertaining Georgiana, Mr. Darcy had found himself able to retreat into the privacy of his thoughts, spending the entirety of the first act consumed with his reflections on his meeting with Mr. Gardiner, not to mention speculations on the happenings on Gracechurch Street.

“I must say I was quite disappointed to learn that we would not be afforded the opportunity to make Miss Bennet’s acquaintance this evening,” Lady Rebecca was saying, making a show of adjusting her theater gloves while subtly observing her nephew’s reaction from the corner of her eye.

His head snapping to attention, he begged pardon.

“Miss Bennet. Georgiana had spoken quite highly of her new friend when we were shopping yesterday, and I had been anticipating greatly the chance to meet to her. I find I am almost as disappointed as she to learn that Miss Bennet was unable to attend this evening.”

“Mmmm, yes,” he replied, taking the opportunity to once again survey the crowd gathered about them, noting several acquaintances whose company, on any other evening, he would have enjoyed. Avoiding making eye contact with any one of them, he was left with no other choice than to return his attention to those gathered in their box. Georgiana and Lord Matlock were currently engaged in conversation concerning the history of the theater and the production, while the Lady’s two nieces who had also attended this evening had moved to the box beside them to socialize with some friends.

“I understand you introduced them, having made Miss Bennet’s acquaintance in… Kent, was it?”

“Hertfordshire.”

“Oh yes! My mistake.” As she then allowed their conversation to fall into silence, she turned an expectant, mischievous gaze upon her nephew, clearly signaling it was his turn to continue their conversation.

However, despite knowing his aunt’s inquisitive nature and her very clear desire to know more about Miss Bennet, he was far from inclined to discuss Elizabeth on this of all evenings. With his future hanging in the balance, undoubtedly being decided as they spoke, he chose another course for their conversation – inquiring after her recent correspondence with the Colonel – a tactic which proved quite efficient in redirecting the lady’s attention.

“Oh yes, you will be delighted to know that I had a letter from Richard today. He is confident he shall be able to join us rather early in the new year!” She announced, drawing the attention of her husband and niece as well.

“Richard!” Georgiana exclaimed, her pleasure at hearing of her favorite cousin’s return reflected in her happy smile and brightened countenance. “Oh, I shall be so happy to see him again!”

“Yes,” Mr. Darcy agreed, this piece of news serving to lighten even his own mood momentarily. “Does he say when precisely he may return to London?”

“Not as yet, but knowing Richard whatever date he may be able to name means very little. I am sure he will arrive when we least expect him,” Lord Matlock jested, his own pleasure at his son’s return evident.

Then filling the remainder of the time with discussions of the approaching holidays and plans for Richard’s visit, Mr. Darcy was pleased to note the return of the actors to the stage, bringing their conversation to a conclusion and allowing him to return to the privacy of his thoughts. While there were any number of matters over which he had toiled since leaving the docks, he had found two in particular had come to dominate his thoughts: the first in regards to his letter.

In the months following his departure from Rosings, My. Darcy had reviewed time and again the contents and manner in which he had composed his letter to Elizabeth. Initially convinced that it had been written solely with the intent to correct the lapses in her understanding concerning the affairs of Mr. Bingley and Mr. Wickham, he was convinced that his reason had reigned in completing his task. However, as time and distance grew, he had eventually come to realize that his letter had not been comprised with respect to his reason, but that it was in fact a desperate need to defend his wounded pride which had driven his hand, writing in retaliation and bitterness for the accusations leveled against him. That the last words she would have from him were so cold, so angry had kept him awake on countless nights, and in a way he found himself wishing she had immediately cast the pages into the fire, having never taken in their rancorous words.

_I have had the whole of your tale from Lizzy._ If such were the case, then it would signify that she had in fact not read it, or even worse, that she had and chose not to believe it. Right? For if she had shared the story of his proposal – and again he could feel his face begin to burn in embarrassment at the realization of such – would she not have also shared the contents of his letter with her relations as well? How could he have any hope of knowing what she must think of him now if he had as yet been unsuccessful in correcting her initial impressions of his character?

And, this led to the second matter with which he was consumed: did she share the same opinions, and would therefore harbor the same concerns, as her uncle if he was indeed allowed to present his suit? _Had you behaved in a more gentlemanlike manner..._ How those words had haunted him since Hunsford! _He_ who had always prided himself on his poise and conduct as a gentleman of the First Circle had been brought so low by her stinging rebuttal. Yet, much like with his perception of his letter, in this too he had come to see the truth in time: she had been correct in her assertions. He had not behaved as he should, and to hear Mr. Gardiner also call his actions into question that very morning had served to remind him of such.

He had not treated Mrs. Bennet and her younger sisters as a gentleman should; he had not even been generous towards the eldest Miss Bennet! Would she, too, be concerned at placing their care in his hands after he had so vehemently disparaged them all during that disastrous proposal, through his mockery of them during his time at Netherfield? He was forced, begrudgingly, admit that she would be justified in being so. If he was granted Mr. Gardiner’s permission, part of his proposition would entail swearing to not just provide for, but to shelter and protect all of the Bennet ladies. How was he to convince her he was in earnest when swearing to care for them as he would Georgiana? And even more pressing, how was he to convince her that he would treat her with only the utmost respect and courtesy given his harsh words to her in the past?

Yes, he had behaved as the consummate gentleman in all of their interactions since that night on King Street, and surely she had noticed. Right? Surely he had succeeding in reveling to her the better angel of his nature. Right? The thought that she may question his ability to continue to be so was disheartening, but even greater than this was the thought that she may even go so far as to fear him in marriage.

To fear his intentions and behavior in the manner to which her uncle had alluded was downright gut-wrenching. For he was a proud and proper man, a true gentleman who would never, _could_ never cause harm to a woman. Especially not Elizabeth. But the fact that he was indeed there at the brothel that night was something which presented him otherwise. Would she fear that he would treat her in the same manner as the degenerates who patronized such an establishment?

It was a thought which caused his stomach to turn, and he now wondered if it was a matter which he would be forced to address when presenting his hand. She was too much of a lady to ask him directly, and he guessed that is what led Mr. Gardiner to do so instead. But how could he assure her of such?

“Nephew!”

Suddenly the feel of a strong hand jarring his shoulder abruptly knocked him from his thoughts, and he was surprised to find that everyone was once again rising from their seats; the last act having concluded while he was engaged with his own thoughts. Turning to find his uncle grinning quizzically at him, he was unsurprised to find himself the target of his uncle’s sarcasm. “No need to ask how you enjoyed the performance then, I see.”

Quickly rising to his feet, he muttered an apology for his inattention and quickly reverted to his usual pretext, attributing his inattention to a pressing matter of business.  
“Ah, you have some new prospect for which I may be interested?” That his uncle’s eyes lit in interest at such a prospect left him scrambling for a response as they made their way from the box.

Finally, at a loss of what to say, he quickly repeated the first idea which sprang to mind, one which he hoped would dissuade his uncle’s interest. “A linen drapers.”

Clearly confounded by his nephew’s response, he repeated, “Linen draper?”

“Yes.”

As they descended the stairs, Lord Matlock regarded his nephew curiously for a few moments before turning to look about the sea of people milling below. Finally, he commented, “Well, if it is a prospect worthy of such deep consideration, I believe I would be interested in hearing more. Let us find a time to meet and discuss this prospect of yours.”

Nodding vaguely, Mr. Darcy was happy to quickly gain the lobby, moving to his sister’s side and making their farewells. Promising to make arrangements to host the Matlocks for dinner soon, the Darcys made their way from the hall; Mr. Darcy relieved to remove himself from such an uncomfortable situation. If there was one thing of which he could be absolutely certain it was this: he would not be sleeping tonight either.

*****PnP*****

Casting a critical eye towards his reflection one more time, Mr. Darcy finally nodded in silent approval of Mr. Fletcher’s work, signaling he was satisfied with his trusted valet’s labors that morning. Having first donned a simple black tailcoat and ivory waistcoat, he had been struck at once upon meeting his reflection, an image far too reminiscent of his call at Hunsford. Startlingly his man, he had immediately begun to pull at the buttons of his coat, demanding an entirely different outfit be brought to him at once, a display to which Mr. Fletcher had never before born witness.

Now dressed in a green and ivory stripped waistcoat with a matching hunter green tailcoat, the master was appeased. Thanking his valet for his assistance, he then dismissed the man to his task of tidying up the dressing room as Mr. Darcy returned to his chamber, approaching his writing desk where he stood for several long moments before pulling open a small drawer. Reaching forward slowly, he pulled forth the emerald ring contained within, allowing it to slip around the tip of his finger as he admired its shine in the morning light, the coolness of the metal band warming quickly at his touch.

The ring had been one rarely worn by the late Lady Anne Darcy, as her colour and tastes tended towards light and airy pastels. But the color had captured his attention immediately upon coming across it, nestled among a collection of jewelry little worn by mother. The dark green seemed tailor made for Elizabeth, one who’s darker colouring and love of nature had rendered him so enamored, so enthralled by her.

_“And love, Mr. Darcy. You are a man who I have no doubt feels deeply for my Lizzy. But will you be satisfied being married to a woman whom you love, but who cannot return such regard?”_

The words of Mr. Gardiner came back to him then, shaking him from his thoughts and causing him to quickly return the ring to its drawer, sliding it closed as he turned from the desk. His call on Mr. Gardiner the previous morning had resulted in another barrage of questions, this time focusing on his resolve to pursue this path. What would he do if the truth of Elizabeth’s circumstances were to be discovered? Would he stand by a wife marred by such scandal? Did he truly believe he could protect her as he so claimed? Was this really a path down which he wished to travel? All of which he had answered as honestly as he could, vowing to stand by Elizabeth no matter the circumstances and assuring Mr. Gardiner that he was indeed committed to his purpose.

_“As my wife, should she be so agreeable, she shall be afforded all that I have and all that I am: a man of honor, conviction, and devotion.”_

_“And love, Mr. Darcy,” Mr. Gardiner then added. Levelling his gaze at the young man seated before him, his tone, already softer than that of their previous meeting, softened even further. “You are a man who I have no doubt feels deeply for my Lizzy. But will you be satisfied being married to a woman whom you love, but who cannot return such regard?”_

_At this Mr. Darcy only diverted his gaze to his glass, unwilling to allow Mr. Gardiner to see how deeply his words cut. But Mr. Gardiner could see it nonetheless and was not left unaffected by seeing the impact his words had upon the gentleman. Allowing his concern for them both to seep through the harshness of his words, he said, “I ask you to consider, truly contemplate the situation into which you intend to cast yourself: a lifetime of marriage to a woman whom you love, but who does not return your affections and never may; one who could, through no fault of her own, bring ruination to your family, to the Darcy name. Is this really a risk you are willing to undertake, knowing it could reap only pain and ruination for all, yet yield no reward?”_

_As the silence once again descended, Mr. Darcy sat stoically in his seat, absently swirling the liquor in his glass as he composed his response. That he had not been prepared to answer such was clear, but his determination was not to be deterred, and at last he returned his gaze to Mr. Gardiner and answered coolly and composedly, “I assure you I have given great consideration to all aspects of my proposal and am set in my decision. Have I your consent?”_

_With a sigh, Mr. Gardiner finally relented, nodding as he said, “If you are truly set upon this path, then I grant you my consent. But know, I shall support Lizzy in whatever choice she makes. I will not force her hand.”_

_“I thank you, Sir.”_

With one final look in the mirror, Mr. Darcy deemed himself ready and made his way from Darcy House, directing his carriage driver to the Gardiner townhouse. Upon arriving, he did not allow himself a moment’s hesitation, striding with determined purpose to the door and being granted admission by a housekeeper appearing unsurprised by his arrival. Upon then being escorted to the morning room, he was greeted by friendly, but clearly somber Mrs. Gardiner, who promptly asked Mrs. Morris to fetch Elizabeth from abovestairs.

“Aye, Ma’am,” the housekeeper responded, curtseying before quickly withdrawing from the room to complete her task.

The room then settled into an uneasy silence for a few moments, as neither were quite sure what to say. For Mr. Darcy knew without doubt that Mrs. Gardiner was aware of the purpose of his call, and Mrs. Gardiner felt the usual niceties were ill-suited to their situation. Finally, she broke the silence by inquiring after Miss Darcy, and upon receiving word that she was well, then asked after their visit to the theater, pleased to hear they had attended despite the sudden change in plans.

When at last, ten minutes later, Mr. Darcy’s ears were altered to the sound of gentle, slippered footsteps approaching the door, he felt his heart begin to pound heavily within his breast, the rush of blood causing his ears to ring. When she entered, he could tell at once that she was tired, the dark circles beneath puffy eyes a testament to her suffering. Yet he was still struck, as he always was upon first catching sight of her.

After the customary bows and curtseys had been exchanged, Mrs. Gardiner immediately made her excuses, declaring she needed to see to some matter in the kitchen. And with the quiet click of the catching latch, they were alone once again.

“Miss Bennet, I hope you are well.”

“Yes,” she lied, taking a seat across from him and casting her eyes anywhere but upon him. “I thank you.”

Pausing, he once again considered how best to begin, for despite the countless hours spent awake in the night drafting his proposal, it all now sounded trite and unconvincing; one made even more difficult to put into words as this was not a proposal born from mutual love and devotion. In truth, the last time he had presented his suit as an impassioned declaration of love, it had blown up in his face spectacularly! But this proposal was one born of necessity, one designed to protect her from the cruel realities of their world, and he could but hope she was willing to see passed the errors of his ways in Hunsford to hear him out today.

“Miss Bennet, I must ask: are aware of the purpose of my call.”

“My aunt informed me only that you wished to speak with me today.” At a loss of where to look, she finally settled her gaze upon her hands, clasp tightly in her lap. “I am to understand that you have been made aware of all that has transpired.”

“Yes, and it pains me greatly to hear you have endured such an egregious insult.”

Uncertain of what to say in response, she weakly muttered, “Thank you.”

His nervousness growing with each breath, he desperately wished to spring from his seat and pace about the room, the movement always serving to assist him in reaching a solution to whatever matter troubled him so. But thankfully, his mind was still focused enough to recall him taking similar actions during his last proposal, and he resolved to maintain his seat for the duration, choosing instead to lean forward and channel his unease into the restless twisting of his signet ring as he spoke.

“Miss Bennet, I am to understand that you are preparing to travel to Cornwall, to stay with your aunt’s family.”

“Yes,” at this she finally meet his gaze. “I am terribly sorry that I will be unable to properly take my leave of Georgiana. I do hope she will not be hurt by such, or think me unappreciative of her friendship. Perhaps,” she then paused for a moment, gathering her courage to ask such a favor of him, “Would it be too much to ask, Sir, for you to find some way of explaining my sudden departure on some emergency which has rendered me unable to see her one last time?”

“Of course,” he rushed to reassure her. “If such is necessary, I will be sure to convey your deepest regrets to my sister.”

When his response was then met with a quizzical gaze, he recognized that the time had indeed arrived for him to make his case. Make his case? Words he had never imagined would apply when the time came for him to present his suit to a lady. With a quiet sigh, he briefly turned his gaze to the window, summoning his courage and praying a silent prayer that his words would serve him well.

“Miss Bennet, I fear your removal to Cornwall will only provide but temporary relief from the circumstances into which you have been cast.”

“I do not disagree, Sir. However, it is the only option we are afforded at this time.”

“If you will forgive me for disagreeing, I do not believe that to be true.”

Her expression shifted quickly then from one of resignation to one of genuine surprise and not without a great deal of confusion. “I fear I do not understand you, Sir. What other option have we? I cannot remain in London, nor can I return to Hertfordshire,” she stated. “It was my hope to pursue a position in the new year and secure a path for myself in service, but it is clear that cannot be accomplished while I remain so close to…” Her voice choking, she quickly abandoned this train of thought, trusting his reason would be able to conclude it for her.

“If you will again forgive me for disagreeing, madam, but a life in service provides no greater certainty than that which you currently possess,” his somber tone undercutting her own quiet reservations concerning her plan.

“Yet, ‘tis all I have.”

“Miss Bennet, I believe you underestimate all that you have,” he countered. Then drawing a breath deep within him, his posture straightening and his resolve firm, he continued, “Despite what has befallen you at the malicious and degenerate nature of another, you are woman of superior intelligence, a kind and generous heart, and unshakable character. You, more so than any other, are deserving of a lifetime of comfort, of security, of happiness, all of which may be ensured in marriage.”

“Marriage?!” Her confusion quickly giving way to unabashed shock, she stuttered briefly in her attempt to dissuade him, “Sir, I… I… I do not believe-”

“If you will but hear me out, Miss Bennet,” he quickly interrupted, attempting to convey through his gaze the urgency of his request.

“Sir, I do not believe this… idea to be well-advised at all!”

“I assure you, Miss Bennet, that I have given this matter great consideration, lengthy consideration. I ask only that you grant me but a few moments to explain.”

Her skepticism was clear, etched upon every feature of her face, her body rigid with tension as she cast her eyes to the window. That she wanted to deny his request out of hand was clear, and the sharp pain that pierced his chest upon realizing this was acute. Yet, he knew himself to be right in proposing this path and his determination to express the fullness of his plan was only further affirmed.

Finally, after several moments of silence, she returned her gaze to him and nodded quietly in agreement with at least hearing what he had to say.

“I thank you for allowing me the chance to explain myself.” Unconsciously scooting forward on the settee, he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees as he began. “The dilemmas with which we have been faced have been numerous, and many as yet still have no resolution; the foremost being the protection of your reputation as well as securing a future for yourself.

“Entering into service cannot guarantee a lifetime of security. As children age, the position of a governess grows obsolete, and you will find yourself in need of a new position on any number of occasions. The best you may hope for is securing a position for a number of years before having to pack your trunks and move to someplace new. And even this is dependent on being employed by personages who are not easily given to fits and whims, who are unlikely to dismiss you on the spot for some minor displeasure.”

Rising abruptly from her seat, Elizabeth moved toward the window, standing with her back to him as she spoke, “Of all of this I am aware, Mr. Darcy. Do not believe me so foolish as to have not considered as much.”

“I would never believe you capable of such an oversight, Miss Bennet. I only say this in an attempt to counter it with my own resolution.” Realizing that she would not turn to face him, he continued anyway. “But marriage will provide you with the security that service cannot. As a wife, you shall be guaranteed your place as the mistress of your own home.” Stopping suddenly, he drew a shaky breath before adding, “Whether that is to be Pemberley or another of my properties is, of course, of your choosing.”

Looking back at him quickly, it was clear that this piece of information was one she had not yet considered. That he would offer to marry her, yet not require her to reside in his home only further confusing her.

But his unease propelled him to move onto his next point quickly, not allowing the full implications of this proposed arrangement to weight too heavily upon him, not now. “You would also be afforded the strength of the Darcy name to protect you. You will find my reputation among Society to be one marked highly with respect and dignity. No hint of scandal has touched the Darcy name in generations, and should someone attempt to level slander against you, a possibility which is highly unlikely in-and-of-itself, the strength of my reputation will be more than sufficient to silence it.”

“And what if you are wrong?” She asked suddenly. “Society is unforgiving of women, and should I, the wife of Mr. Darcy, be exposed as a common… Well, it will be the greatest scandal of the Season, one that would fuel gossip for years to come and destroy in a heartbeat your family name. I could not bear to see that happen to you. Or Georgiana.”

By now, he too could no longer remain still and rising to his feet, moved towards the opposite window. He had dreaded this portion of the conversation, as it would require them to delve into the details of that night he was sure they both wished to forget. “If you will forgive the indelicacy of what I will say next, I wish to address your concerns honestly.”

She too appeared cognizant of that which was coming, quickly turning back to the window as she quietly bade him continue.

“There exist only two ways for you to be exposed: the first being that one of those involved in the scheme against you chose to reveal the truth, a possibility I believe unlikely. As Both Mr. Collins and… the madame are guilty of violating the law, to risk exposing you would also result in exposing themselves to prosecution and prison. It would be in neither of their interests therefore to do so.

“The second would involve one of those assembled in the room that night to recognize and-”

“Which has already happened,” she interjected.

“- and to expose you,” he continued despite her interruption. “If there is one thing of which I can assure you concerning the gentlemen of the First Circle, of which you will belong, they do not like drawing attention to their private affairs. For one to expose you, he would be exposing too much of himself and his… proclivities for comfort.”

“So instead they will just approach me in shops or a ballroom, requesting my favors!” She then spat, the anguish and disgust she felt dripping from every word. Then clamping her hand to her mouth, she moved quickly to the piano on the far wall, wishing to place as much distance between them as possible in the small space as she battled her tears.

Desperately he wished to ease her distress, but bound by propriety and his certainly of her own wishes, he maintained his distance. “Miss Bennet, I know who was in that room.” This finally made her turn for a moment to look at him before resuming her pacing, finding herself stopping at a small table in the corner where she busied her hands with straightening the lace tablecloth.

“Of the… gentlemen,” he chewed over the word as he said it, disgusted that any of them should be addressed as such, “who were present, there are none with whom I keep company, and I can assure that you will not cross paths with them this Season.” Except Edward, his treasonous mind added, but he quickly pushed the thought aside, determined to deal with the matter of his cousin at another time.

“And how can you promise that?” She asked in disbelief, now moving on to a nearby shelf, absently adjust several of the figurines this way and that.

“Miss Bennet,” he called, seeking her attention in order to silently request she resume her seat; her pacing making his even worse. When at last she looked at him, he gestured towards the settee upon which she had been seated and quietly asked, “Pray?”

Turning her eyes to the small porcelain cat she held in her hands, she released a quiet sigh, attempting to dispel some of her pent-up anxiety. Finally, returning the cat to the shelf, she acceded to his request and resumed her seat as he continued.

“This is the last Season before Georgiana will make her debut. As such my aunt, Lady Matlock, and I have arranged several small social gatherings for her to attend; our goal being to help her gain experience, and hopefully some confidence, in navigating the drawing rooms of the Ton. The guest lists of these gatherings have been selected with a great amount of consideration and precision, designed to make them as comfortable for her as is possible.

“These small gatherings would afford you as well, the chance to socialize with other members of the First Circle and establish yourself as Mrs. Darcy without fear of encountering any who may recognize you. Your attendance at these would also afford the opportunity to dispel any hints of scandal which the Ton often seeks to sniff out when a marriage occurs. With the assistance of my relatives and their friends, we may establish your reputation, even if only on hearsay, ahead of your full introduction to Society next year.”

“And you believe the difference of a year will be enough to shield me from discovery?” She asked in earnest.

“If I may be so bold, Miss Bennet, your experiences this autumn have rendered enough of a change in your appearance as to make you nearly unrecognizable from the woman I knew in Hertfordshire. I believe that when allowed the time for your health to be fully restored, no one will be able to connect you with the young, frightened woman they saw for only a minute or two in a darkened room a year prior.” Pausing for a moment, he weighed what he wished to say next. And finally deciding in favor added, “And should I ever see any opportunity in which any one of those men may find themselves in your company, you have my word that I shall be at your side.”

Sensing that her skepticism was far from settled, he then took a moment to resume his place across from her and broached the next issue for which he was seeking resolution. “As your husband, I will also be in a better position to answer Mr. Collins and see to the safety and security of your mother and sisters.”

Her head snapping to attention, it was certain he once again had her full attention.

“We have been unable to find a way to remove your mother and sisters from Mr. Collins’ care,” he stated. “But as your husband, as brother to your sisters and son to your mother, in the eyes of the law their welfare shall fall to me, and you have my word I shall remove them from Longbourn as soon as may be and see them settled safely in a home of their own.”

Once again, her agitation forced her to her feet, carrying her to the window once more as she battled her tears.

“As a man wholly unconnected to you, such assistance to your family would be scandalous and draw far more attention than any of us desire. But as members of my family, there would be no cause to question my relocation of them nor my supporting them in a lifestyle to which they are accustomed.”

“You seek to take on such great responsibilities, Mr. Darcy,” She finally responded, her voice roughened by unshed tears, as she still refused to look at him. “Why?”

“A great wrong has been committed against you, Miss Bennet, an injustice which I cannot allow to persist when I have at my disposal the means to end such suffering.”

“That is very noble of you, Sir,” she responded quietly, allowing her words to hang heavily in the tense air about them. Her head was spinning from all she had heard, more questions coming to mind with each passing minute. He had given her much to consider, and she knew she would not be able to answer his as yet unasked question: Would she marry him?

“I am afraid I am not at the moment able to decide whether or not I agree with your plan; I shall need some time to consider all you have said.”

“Of course,” he responded, rising from his seat. With her back still turned to him, his eyes drifted freely over her form, noting the rigidness of her posture and the tightness with which she had wrapped her arms about her, her stance closed off and defensive as she stared out the window. “If it is agreeable to you, I shall return in a few days’ time to receive you answer?”

“Yes,” she answered, but when it became apparent that she would not turn to him to even make her farewells, he bid her good day and walked from the room.


	24. Chapter 24

**Author’s Note:** This chapter has some rough spots as Elizabeth is forced to face more of her demons. Brief descriptions of or allusions to sexual assault in a couple of places. To avoid these, skip paragraphs 4 through 6 in the beginning of the chapter and Elizabeth’s second flashback (Emmy's story) in italics.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Struggling and straining with all her might she clung tightly to the brass sconce, her nails digging sharply into her palms as the angry red sea swirled around her, threatening to pull her under with each crashing wave. Looking frantically about her, she searched for a way to escape the rising tide, but each of the doors lining the hall was barred tightly shut, and the one at the end which was open was too far for her to reach in time. The waves reaching higher still, one struck her forcefully from behind, wrenching her loose from her anchor and finally pulling her down into the frigid water.

Nevertheless she persisted, desperately kicking her legs as she tried to swim towards the open door; her saturated gown weighing her down; her lungs burning with the need for air. As she finally seemed to break free of the torrent and move towards the door, those lining the hall burst open, quickly draining the flood from the corridor. But as those doors opened, her one for escape slammed shut; the sound of the lock falling into place echoing loudly in the now empty hallway.

Looking about for another way out, she pushed herself to her feet and dashed toward the closest open doorway only to find it led to the washroom; Lily and Amy standing over the basin as they chattered away, scrubbing the stains from another mountain of bedsheets. Turning quickly, she sought the next door, but finding therein a light-haired woman standing before a bed, her back to the door. As she tried to cry out for help, hoping to gain the woman’s attention, she found her voice silenced, unable to utter a single sound. But if it had it would have mattered not, as the woman then turned to glare angrily at her from over her shoulder, slowly lifting her skirts as she did so.

Horrified, she began to run, rushing down the hallway and unwilling to look into any of the open doorways; the faint sounds of grunting and shrieks of pain rising rapidly, filling the hallway and raging in her ears. At last, the door at the other end opened and a tall, shadowy figured stepped forward. Attempting to once again call for help, her voice this time rang true, but not before she had the chance to realize who it was that now stood before her. Halted abruptly in her tracks, she allowed but a moment to take in the wolfish grin of Geoffrey before quickly setting off, running back down the corridor and praying that she would find some door which would lead to freedom.

But he was much faster than she, quickly overtaking her and knocking her into the wall. Then at once, as always, he set upon her, grabbing her hair and wrenching her head back, so far so that she could feel her throat constricting. Struggling for breath she tried to push hard against him, but he was too strong, too powerful, and as he crushed his mouth against hers, his tongue roughly demanding entrance, she clenched her jaw tightly shut, inadvertently biting him.

Emboldened by such defiance, as he always was, he quickly released her hair and grabbed her chin, driving his fingers roughly into her cheeks to force her mouth open; his tongue pushing violently into her. Yet she struggled still, fighting with all of her might to break free, but he would not be moved. Savagely grabbing her wrist, he then wrenched her arm forward and pressed her palm firmly against the front of his trousers, pushing himself into her hand. And then the sound of his coarse, gravelly voice reached her, echoing in the emptiness surrounding them, reminding her as he did daily, “Your time will come.”

Gasping, Elizabeth’s eyes flew open, her body propelling her from her bed. Looking about the chamber, she sought any signs of the demon lurking therein, but in the predawn hours there was little she could see. The only point that mattered was the reassurance that she was still in her bedchamber on Gracechurch Street; it had all been but another nightmare. Struggling to regain control of her breathing and quelling the painful thudding of her heart, she shuddered against the cold air now seeping through her dampened nightrail; the sweat beaded upon her skin quickly adding to the chill. Moving towards the mantel, she was able to discern that it was but a quarter to four, and knowing she would be unable to return to sleep after such a horrifying dream, she crawled beneath the covers once again and stared aimlessly at the canopy above.

Her day had been a long one. Beginning with Mr. Darcy’s call and his surprising offer of marriage, she had remained in the morning room for above a quarter hour, staring blankly at the garden lying just beyond the window. Her thoughts scattered and swirling, she could not in truth identify all on which she had meditated, as her next clear memory was of Aunt Madeline’s quiet return.

_Upon hearing the door close and without turning from her study of the shrubbery, Elizabeth asked, “Did you know?”_

_“That he would ask for your hand? Yes, I did.”_

_“And you did not think to warn me?”_

_“Elizabeth,” she called, her voice gentle but its tone that of a mother’s quiet firmness as she instructed her niece to come from the window and sit beside her._

_Wearied from nights without rest and a morning which had drained the last of her energy, Elizabeth complied, but her countenance did little to hide her displeasure at finding such a secret had been withheld from her. “Why did you not tell me?”_

_Deciding against addressing her question directly, Mrs. Gardiner chose first to share the whole of her knowledge concerning the matter of Mr. Darcy’s proposal, “He approached your uncle two days ago, seeking his consent in both his offer of marriage and his intentions to shelter your mother and sisters. Your uncle, however, was unwilling to agree to such until he had the opportunity to think upon it and discuss the matter with me.”_

_“But not me?” She demanded._

_“Your uncle felt, and rightly so I do believe, that given all you have endured he did not wish to subject you to any additional distress at that time. There are a great many concerns which he harbors towards Mr. Darcy, against placing your care in the hands of a man for whom he knows very little. For we knew very little of Mr. Collins and well…” Allowing the rest to hang unfinished in the air, she fell silent for a few moments, appearing to consider what to say next._

_Finally she released a wearied sigh, her voice quiet as she continued, “Elizabeth, I feel I must confess… that you should know… your uncle feels a heavy responsibility for that which has befallen you.”_

_Gasping in surprise at such a revelation, she stuttered for a few moments in disbelief before protesting, “But that is preposterous! What could Uncle have done?”_

_“He questions his willingness in acceding to your mother and her insistence on remaining at Longbourn. That he did not seek you out when he first became concerned about your whereabouts haunts him daily.”_

_“But you know as well as I that Mama was adamant in her refusal to leave Longbourn. Once Mr. Collins had offered his allowance in our remaining there, she considered the matter settled!”_

_“Yes, but when Fanny refused to send you and Jane to us to help ease the burden, he wishes he had insisted.”_

_“What do you mean?” Elizabeth asked, her eyes growing wide as she stared in bewilderment at her aunt._

_At first confused by her niece’s response, it took but a few moments before Mrs. Gardiner realized the source of her puzzlement, her own countenance twisting in despair, “Oh, Lizzy!”_

_“Mama never said a word to Jane nor I about coming to London! When did this happen?”_

_“‘Twas during the summer,” Mrs. Gardiner replied. “We wrote to her on several occasions asking to have you and Jane come to us.”_

_“Why did she not tell us?”_

_The heavy sadness of Mrs. Gardiner’s answer brought them both near tears, “We were made to believe she had. ‘Tis why I did not write of the prospect in my letters, believing you both had elected to remain at Longbourn until employment could be secured.”_

_Overcome with despair, they fell into silence, each battling their tears as they struggled to maintain their composure. Another piece to the puzzle – one that neither had suspected even existed – making the murky string of events which had led to their current situation even more confounding. Why had Mrs. Bennet misled her brother and his wife? And why keep such a secret from her own daughters as they had prepared to leave Longbourn for a life in service?_

_Mrs. Gardiner was the first to recover and returned their conversation once more to the immediate issue at hand: Mr. Darcy. “So when your uncle was approached, requesting his consent to marriage, he was – and remains still – very skeptical and overly cautious in agreeing, wishing to avoid yet another poor decision which may place you in a vulnerable and dangerous position._

_“After conversing with me and again with Mr. Darcy, he finally relented enough to agree to his asking, granting his consent only yesterday. But pray know, Lizzy! Whatever decision you make, your uncle and I shall support you. If you do not wish to accept Mr. Darcy’s offer, then do not,” she urged, her desire for her niece to know they supported her of the utmost importance._

_“Thank you.”_

_“But do allow yourself the time to deliberate on your answer,” she then advised. “It is clear to us all that your Mr. Darcy is a complex man, and I believe there are a great many facets to both his character and his proposition which require a great deal of consideration.”_

Unwilling to agree to as much at the time, Elizabeth chose instead to thank her aunt for her discretion, and while still not receiving a satisfactory answer as to why this had been kept from her following her uncle’s consent, she had found that it mattered little once all was said and done. For not too long after Mr. Darcy’s departure, Jane had arrived for her weekly visit, finding her aunt and sister sitting in silence in the morning room, each working quietly on their embroidery.

Much like their previous visits, Elizabeth could readily detect Jane’s suspicions; her sister clearly able to discern that all was not well. But as Jane had always been one to avoid conflict or confrontations, she had set to task diffusing the unease in the room, eventually drawing both of her relatives into the benign discussions of the weather, the Gardiner children, and her charges. When at last she returned to Chesterfield Street, Elizabeth had made her excuses and slowly climbed the stairs towards her room, each footstep becoming increasingly heavy as the weight of the day bore mightily down upon her. Upon arriving at her chamber, she had locked the door behind her and laid down on the bed, rubbing her eyes as she released a long sigh of exhaustion.

Now here she was again, lying in bed and staring unseeingly at the canopy overhead, her mind engaged in a confusing and maddening debate over her future. The prospect of marriage was one she had never considered, knowing the limited prospects following her father’s death had now become nonexistent. For she had been rendered too toxic for any man of wealth or status to risk attaching his name to; surely Mr. Darcy understood that. For he had born witness firsthand to the full extent of her ruination. And though appearing understanding of those forces beyond her control which had cast her into this situation, it was still too much for a man of his station to take upon himself, to invite such disgrace into his family, his home.

Then why would he offer?

_You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you._

For what was sure to be the thousandth time since that fateful day in Hunsford, the image of him standing restlessly before her, his manner brimming with great agitation and hauteur as he presented his suit, rose from the depths of her mind. Could it be possible that he loved her still? Is this what would drive him to offer for her once more? In Hunsford, he had articulated rather well all those facets of her life and her situation which would serve only as a detriment to his name and his family, but those now paled in comparison to her current circumstances. In addition to the delicate nature of her reputation, she was now a woman without a home, without a dowry, and with a history, as far as everyone knew, of working in service. Was love the only possible explanation for his seeking her hand once more?

At the thought that he loved her still, her heart seized painfully within her breast; the tightness making it difficult to breathe as she realized that she could not even offer him as much in return. Although her feelings towards the gentleman had shifted significantly since then – his letter having done much to help her see him from another perspective – what she did feel for him could not be described as love. Grateful for his assistance in her time of need? Of course. Respectful after observing the diligence and devotion with which he tends to Georgiana? Absolutely. Friendship in return for the loyalty he had shown, standing by her and her family in this their darkest hour? Even that she could say was growing with each hour spent in his company. But love? Love she was not sure she would ever, could ever feel towards any man.

To agree to marriage would place her now and forever under the control and command of another man, and this was a thought which terrified her more than she had thought possible. Once young and innocent, the prospect of placing her welfare in the care of a man who loved her, who esteemed her seemed the most heavenly experience to be had in life. And although still young, she no longer viewed the world nor her fellow man through the same innocence of childhood dreams. What would he expect of her if she did agree to assume his name? By law, he would hold the right to demand of her whatever he wished, to control where she went and with whom she socialized. And the crux of his plan for saving her left her as little more than a puppet for him to direct this way and that through the perils of Society. But would that change once enough time had passed? When the imminent threat of discovery had passed, would he too step back and allow her the freedom she so desperately sought?

Yet, she had seen him in an entirely new light since that dreadful night on King Street. In truth, he had every right to her that night as well, free from all consequences of his actions. But he had let her be, only to then go to great extremes to protect and free her from that horrid place. Reuniting her with her uncle, pursuing friendship with both her and her relatives, and even insisting on helping to bring Mr. Collins to justice. A far cry from the man she had known in Hertfordshire and Kent. This all reflecting very well upon him, showing him as possibly the only gentleman she could trust enough to place herself into his care. But yet, she could no longer overlook the fact that he had been there that night; just another man visiting a brothel in search of a woman to use for his own pleasures, a goal from which he had only been deterred upon realizing the girl up for auction was the very same woman who had scorned him seven months earlier. And while she had been assured such was a common practice among men, it was a failure in character which she would be unable to tolerate, unwilling to turn a blind eye to as she knew only too well the terrible acts they seek to subject others to.

Turning then to her side, Elizabeth reached for the pillow beside her, hugging it tightly to her as she closed her eyes and sighed once more in frustration, “Why must you be so confounding?!”

However, despite her various misgivings concerning her own safety and future, she could not ignore the possibilities such a life would grant her mother and sisters. He had promised to see to the relocation of the Bennet women to a home of their own, one equal to the quality of life to which they are accustomed. To do so would not only save her younger sisters from a similar fate, but Jane as well. Elizabeth had not failed to notice the waning luster of her eldest sister, a woman once known for such happiness and serenity, grace and beauty was beginning to show the weariness and unease of a life in service. Although she proclaimed her adoration of the Daventry children, Elizabeth, who knew her sister better than any other, could see the toll the work was taking on Jane. If the family no longer relied upon the pittance earned in service, Jane could return home and to the life she was meant to lead.

Elizabeth could also not deny the security marriage to Mr. Darcy would offer her. Even if her worst fears were to be realized, at least she would be granted a stable home in which to live and food in her belly; two crucial aspects of life which she had never before been given cause to question. Mr. Darcy had been correct in his description of a life in service. In fact, he had hit precisely upon the concerns she herself had been harboring when contemplating such a course, for she could not shake the memory of Emmy’s tale.

_Groaning quietly as another bolt of pain radiated throughout her back, Elizabeth nearly dropped the stack of clean bed linens she was carrying, slowly climbing her way through the servant’s stairway to the floors above. The house was quiet, as was apparently to be expected during the day light hours. She and the young girl Lily had been instructed to make up the beds on the third level in preparation for the evening, and as they finally attained the assigned floor, Lily chatted away casually as they set about their task. By the time they had made their way to the third room, the distinctive sound of a woman crying met their ears. Exchanging nervous glances, Lily slowly approached the door, opening it quietly as she peeked within._

_“Oh, Emmy!” She gasped, allowing the door to swing fully open as she rushed towards the bed. Cautiously Elizabeth followed, but was soon frozen in her footsteps, for there upon the bed lay a woman consumed in despair, her gown torn and askew, a streak of blood trickling from her corner of her lip. But with Lily’s attempts to assist her, she grew angry, pushing the helping hands away and adjusting her skirts, struggling to cover the angry purple bruises dotting her bared legs. Then stumbling from the bed, she pushed her way passed them, her head bowed as she refused to meet their gaze._

_“Geoffrey,” Lily sighed. Then bending to retrieve the sheets she had dropped, she once again set to task making the bed, adding in a tone so casual as to leave Elizabeth breathless, “He just will not let her be.” Then looking up, she sighed in exasperation, “Come along then! I cannot do this by myself.”_

_The chastisement finally shook Elizabeth from her shock, enough to move towards the bed and allow her hands to take up their work; the scene she had witness playing itself over and over in her mind as she stared at the bed. Lily, finally seeming to notice her companion’s disquiet, explained, “That was Emmy. She has been here only about a month or two.”_

_Struggling to recover her voice, Elizabeth asked in an unsteady breath what had brought the poor girl here, having learned within the week since her arrival that each woman possessed a story of what had stranded them here, trapped in this prison._

_“Emmy? She was a maid of some sort, not really sure where. But one day, her master took a liking to her and kept trying to get her offer up her favors. Then one day, he came upon her tidying a chamber, said he was done waiting and set upon her.”_

_“Oh!” Elizabeth gasped, her eyes clouding with tears as the vision of the poor, broken girl lying prostrate upon the bed flashed before her._

_“Did that more than a few times until one day she told him she had fallen with child. He cast her from the house at once and left her with nowhere to go. Then she says the Madame found her and offered to give her a place to stay and food to eat until the babe came.”_

_“What happened to the babe?”_

_“Oh, she never had it. The Madame gave her the tea she gives us all when we believe we may be with child. Poor Emmy did not know what it would do, but a few days later I heard her crying that the babe was gone. But the Madame told her it was done and she now owed her a pound for the cure, which of course Emmy did not have, so the Madame put her to work.”_

Not more than a week or so later, Emmy was dead, murdered and left naked in an alleyway only a block from the brothel.

No, a life in service only offered more instability and danger, uncertainties which would not be limited to just herself. For unless they were able to find their future in marriage, all four of her sisters were destined for a life in service. But marriage to Mr. Darcy would provide for them, allowing them the time to pursue marriages of their own without fear of need. And Mama… Well, Elizabeth was unable to give much thought to Mrs. Bennet at that time, still shaken by the discovery of her own mother’s betrayal.

And so Elizabeth spent the remainder of the night, tossing and turning as more and more questions were raised, questions she begrudgingly began to realize she would not be able to resolve without speaking directly to the man who held the answers: Mr. Darcy.

****

*****PnP*****

“Ah, Lizzy!” Mr. Gardiner greeted cheerfully. “How very good it is to see you up and about today.”

Having arrived home earlier than usual, he sought out his wife and niece as soon as he had divested himself of his outerwear, pleased to find them chatting amicably in the drawing room as they worked on their sewing. Gracing each with a light kiss on the cheek, he assumed his place beside his wife and inquired after the ladies’ well-being today.

“We are well, my dear,” Mrs. Gardiner answered; her hand unconsciously coming to rest upon the slight swell hidden beneath her gown.

“Very good,” he declared before then turning to his niece, his tone growing softer and his concern unmistakable, “And you, Lizzy? How are you faring today?”

With a faint smile she assured him that she was feeling better, although the shadows growing darker beneath her eyes seemed to speak of a different story. When she then inquired after his cause for returning home so early, she was not surprised by his response.

“I was wondering… well, perhaps hoping would be the better word, that we might be afforded the opportunity to discuss the matter of Mr. Darcy. That is, if you feel up to it, my dear?”

Setting her sewing aside, Elizabeth folded her hands primly in her lap as she agreed, “I must say I too was hoping for just such a chance.” Pausing for a moment, she considered how she wished to begin their conversation, and finding that her curiosity was getting the better of her, she choose to first inquire after his interviews with the gentleman.

“Ah yes. Well, as I believe Mrs. Gardiner has shared with you, he came to me a few days ago to present his plan of marriage. I requested time to consider it, only granting permission once given adequate time to meditate on the matter.” Then pausing to observe the subtle quirk of his niece’s eyebrow, he jested, “Ah, I see that is not the part which has engaged your interest.” That this finally drew from his niece the first true smirk he had seen in a week, he was left well-pleased with his joke.

“I listened to his proposition concerning the benefits he believes marriage may offer in our present quandary, his avowal to see to the welfare of not only you, but your mother and sisters as well.”

Her countenance sobering, Elizabeth looked nervously to her hands then, asking quietly, “Do you believe it may work?”

“Caring for your mother and sisters? Yes, I-”

“No, I mean… do you believe he may truly be capable of accomplishing that which he promises: shielding me from discovery while restoring my reputation.”

“What say you, Lizzy?” he asked. That he did not wish to influence her decision one way or the other was a vow he had made to himself. Although never a matter he had previously given much consideration, he had since Elizabeth’s return been struck by the realization of just how much a woman’s life was dictated by men. From her mother and sisters being left with no home as a result of Mr. Bennet’s poor management, to the employment – or schemes of employment – being arranged by a distant cousin. And seeing how negatively this could impact those he loved – not without similar consideration being afforded to his own daughters – he had quietly absolved to give Elizabeth the chance to make her choice as freely as she could. “I am sure he outlined his plan for you as succinctly as he did me. What are your thoughts?”

“I know not,” she confessed. “He claims to possess the knowledge of those who could pose a threat to my reputation, and I must grant that of us all he is the one most likely to know from whom I must be sheltered.”

In unspoken agreement, the Gardiners nodded; all electing not to articulate the source of his knowledge.

“He believes that a year’s time will be enough to render me unrecognizable as well.”

“If you will forgive me, my dear,” Aunt Madeline interjected, “I do believe that at least to be true. When I first set my eyes upon you in the morning light, I too would have been hard pressed to believe it was you standing before me. Yet each day you are becoming more yourself, and I do believe time will heal much and render significant change.”

“Then does it not stand to reason that I may return to London in a year’s time to pursue employment and be equally free from fear of scandal?”

Again the Gardiners nodded in agreement, though this time rather begrudgingly. That neither wished to see her pursue a life in service was clear, and an argument they had realized had long since been lost.

“He also claims he can arrange for me to move about Society this Season without exposure. I fear I am not certain as to how that may be possible, unless I am to remain hidden away in Darcy House for the remainder of my time in London or we are to leave Ton not long after the wedding. Did he give you any indications as to what he is planning in this regard, Uncle?”

“No, I am afraid he did not. He mentioned only the already planned soirees for his sister, which you will be party to and guaranteed no one on the guest list will recognize you.”

“Yes, he said as much to me.” Falling silent once more, she cast her eyes to hands again, finding that in her unease her fingers had busied themselves with a loose thread from her handkerchief, one wound so tightly about her finger that the tip was beginning to turn colors. “What else did you and he discuss?”

“Well, I also had many questions for which I required answers. I raised my concerns over his attitudes towards your mother and sisters; a charge of which he accepted ownership and expressed his understanding that he needed to make amends where they are concerned.”

At this Elizabeth quickly returned her eyes to her uncle, her surprise at hearing this evident. “He said that?”

“Yes. I also questioned him on his loyalty to those at the mercy of his care.” Here Mr. Gardiner stopped suddenly; Mr. Darcy’s words concerning the trustworthiness of Mr. Wickham coming to mind. Uncertain how Elizabeth would regard the warning concerning her friend, he ventured on regardless, staying true to his vow to only place all the information at her feet and allow her to determine its merit. “I addressed his dealings with Mr. Wickham, a man who relied on his good graces and yet suffered only his disapprobation. However, he insinuated that Mr. Wickham is not a gentleman worthy of such loyalty.”

At this he was surprised to find both women equally startled and slightly dismayed, causing him to wonder if he had caused them either great insult or if there was some part of this particular story to which he had not been permitted. His surprise was made even greater when Mrs. Gardiner began to apologize, “My dear, I am terribly sorry. For I had not thought to… Oh, I am terribly sorry!”

“Sorry for what, my dear?”

Here Elizabeth chose to intervene. “No, tis my fault, Aunt.” Then rising from her seat, she moved towards the window, as was becoming her habit when facing an uncomfortable situation. For a few moments she remained silent, staring absently out at the late afternoon sky as the words of Mr. Darcy’s letter came back to her. Oh, what was she to tell her aunt and uncle?

“When Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent, I had challenged him with Mr. Wickham’s story of betrayal and ill-fortune suffered at his hands, a claim which he fervently and adamantly denied…” pausing to draw a deep breath before finished, “in a letter he delivered to me the following day.”

“A letter?” Mr. Gardiner asked in surprise, the breech in propriety not lost upon her relatives.

“Yes. In it he explained the whole of his dealings with Mr. Wickham, and I was terribly embarrassed to find myself proven so very wrong in my judgement of them both.”

“And when Lizzy spoke of misjudging Mr. Wickham, I had in truth not thought much of it at the time,” Mrs. Gardiner then added.

“Ah, I see.”

As silence once again descended on the room and Mr. Gardiner realized Elizabeth appeared unwilling to offer any more information in regards to Mr. Wickham, he elected to continue on with his recounting. “I also asked him what he would do should his plan fail and you are indeed recognized, which as we have seen is a very real contingency for which he must be prepared.”

At this, Elizabeth once again turned to face her uncle, her expression apprehensive yet eager to hear what he had to say.

“He swore that he would stand by you regardless.”

Uncertain of what to make of this response, and to be honest fairly disappointed in its ambiguity, Elizabeth returned her attention to the window, considering all that had been said. “Do you believe he will?”

Taking a moment to consider his response, Mr. Gardiner finally offered only this: “I believe the real question, the only opinion which matters is yours. Do _you_ believe him as true… as steadfast in character as he claims to be?”

*****PnP*****

The Gardiner townhouse was unusually quiet that Wednesday morning. Mrs. Gardiner and Mrs. White had risen early, affording themselves the time needed to prepare the children for a morning sojourn to the park. Elizabeth, aware of their plans, had elected to remain behind, using the pretense of a slight headache to excuse herself from the party. Yet despite her cousins’ numerous protestations, she would not be swayed, and Mrs. Gardiner ended the debate altogether by declaring Cousin Lizzy’s need for rest to be of the utmost importance if she was to have the strength needed to build a blanket fort later in the day as promised. This finally appeasing the children, the group made their way from the house; Mrs. Gardiner pausing briefly to give her niece a consoling embrace and a whisper of best wishes before departing.

The arrangements for the family outing had been formed by design, as a brief note from Mr. Darcy to Mr. Gardiner the day before had sought to confirm his morning call at the Gardiner home. Though sounding less convincing than she had hoped, Elizabeth had agreed that she would indeed be ready to speak with the gentleman at that time, and when asked by her aunt if she wished her to remain with her or close by, Elizabeth had expressed her belief that having so many people about might make the already awkward meeting even more so. Although not at all comfortable with the impropriety of a gentleman calling when her niece was alone, her aunt had agreed.

Now the only sounds to be heard were the faint ticking of the mantle clock and the occasional rustle of a turning page. What she was reading Elizabeth really did not know. For the words on the page before her made little sense; her vacant gaze merely ghosting over them as her distracted mind only registered a word here of there. When the distant ringing of the doorbell finally reached her, she set aside the book at once, knowing all too well who it announced. And although it felt like his arrival in the morning room was taking far too long and arriving sooner than she was prepared, at last the door did open to admit the gentleman. Though her memory of returning his greeting would forever remain unclear, she apparently did so as he was soon taking a seat across from her; their expressions flat and their postures rigid as they surveyed each other in quiet apprehension across the expanse.

Finding her voice, Elizabeth was the first to break the silence. “I wished to thank you, Sir, for the honor of your proposal. I believe I was remiss in not expressing such when last we spoke, and I do not wish you to believe me ignorant of the great compliment which you have paid me in asking for my hand in marriage.”

For a moment she paused, not failing to notice his slight intake of breath upon hearing her words. To see his countenance tighten and his posture become tenser still, she could only imagine what he must be thinking. But as she had prepared to face him once again, she had selected her words with great care and was determined to proceed as intended. “Pray, do not believe me ungrateful for all that you are prepared to offer a woman such as myself, and I am certain that your decision to do so was not one undertaken lightly or without regard to all the hardships it may present.

“But with that being said, I find I am not yet able to honor your proposal with an answer. I find there are matters… well, questions really that I feel need be addressed before I may be able to make such a decision. If you would be so kind as to allow me the opportunity to engage you in further conversation, I would be most obliged.”

“Of course,” he answered; his voice sounding rough, almost hoarse.

“I thank you, Sir,” Then needing to pause for another moment, she soon added, “and if you may be so willing, I believe it may be in both our interests if we could perhaps set aside… that is, I believe an honest… perhaps frank conversation on several matters are in order.”

The stillness in the room did little to hide the faint sound of him clearing his throat, and she regarded him carefully as he entreated, “Pray, ask of me anything which you require. You shall have my full and honest answer.” That he quietly prayed his agreement would not come back upon him in any manner which may be embarrassing or detrimental to his suit she need not know.

“I have, of course, been giving your proposal great consideration and your charity in providing for my family. Pray, can you tell me more of your intentions to secure the safety and support for my mother and sisters? Where shall you move them?”

“Mr. Gardiner and I have been in discussion on this very question, as I am sure you are aware.” Receiving her nod in confirmation, he continued. “He has suggested they would quite enjoy being by the sea. Do you agree?”

“Yes, Mama always tried to convince Papa that a trip to Brighton would be enjoyed by all, but he was never one to forego the comforts of his library for such an excursion.”

“Then I believe we shall continue in our search for a property close to the sea, and upon locating a suitable home which meets with your approval, I shall seek to have them moved at once. I do not believe it wise to prolong their relocation with the imminent threat posed by Mr. Collins.”

That she would be granted a say in choosing a new home for her family was both unexpected and a great relief, and she did not fail to recognize the significance of allowing her such a role in the decision. However, she also understood the implications of how far removed she would be from her family, especially if she was expected to reside in Derbyshire. “And how often shall I be allowed to visit them?”

“Allowed to visit them?” He repeated; the furrowing of his brow suggesting he found such a question somewhat confusing.

“You have made it clear in our past… conversations that you care little for my family, finding them lacking in propriety and at times uncouth in their decorum,” she reminded, but she could feel her cheeks beginning to burn as she did so, calling forth unpleasant memories of Hunsford’s drawing room. “I, in truth, cannot deny that these characterizations are not without foundation. Mama and Lydia are too used to having their way, at times testing even Jane’s patience when their wishes are denied. Kitty is all too willing to follow in this manner, and Mary, though well-meaning in her proselytizing, often exposes herself to ridicule and scorn.

“This is to be your family should we marry. I have little doubt as to your wishing to keep your distance from them, but shall you require the same of me? How often shall I be allowed to see them?”

“Whenever you desire,” he answered without hesitation, though his color had heightened considerably in response to her unforgivingly frank summation of his past accusations. “I would not dream to impede upon your freedom to move about as you wish.”

Feeling a rush of relief in receipt of such a promise, she then inquired, “Would I then be equally free to welcome them into my home?”

“Of course. They would become my family as mine would become yours, and I am prepared to accept them as such.”

But what she was sure was meant to be reassuring only served to agitate yet another concern which had been plaguing her these few days past. “Which places us all in a precarious position as a union such as ours would invite great scrutiny, and should my past be uncovered, expose us all to scandal and exile. You yourself admitted that a new marriage, whoever it may be, is always observed closely; the gossips of the Ton seeking the slightest sign of impropriety. Ours would be ripe for just such fodder. It would ruin forever your family name and Georgiana’s hopes for a suitable marriage, not to mention exposing my own sisters to a similar fate.

“When presenting your plan to protect my reputation, you seemed quite convinced of your success. Were these words spoken is such confidence merely to appease my concerns, or do you in truth believe we shall be able to accomplish all you have proposed? Because if you are wrong, we shall all suffer the consequences.”

Following the conclusion of her speech, Mr. Darcy remained silent for several long moments, no doubt considering how best to address her concerns; concerns he most certainly held as well. When at last he spoke, she was not left unaffected by the somber yet firm timber of his voice. “Yes, I do believe we shall overcome the circumstances currently plaguing us all. If we were to rely solely on the strength of my own reputation and introduced you without reserve into Society this season, then we would indeed invite the scrutiny and potential for scandal of which you speak.

“But by limiting our social interactions to those few select engagements, surrounded only by the closest family and friends of myself and Lord and Lady Matlock, I believe we shall be able to create enough exposure to dismiss any speculation surrounding our marriage while ensuring you shall not be discovered. And when we do eventually venture forth freely into Society, I know who we need avoid.”

“As you also were present that night,” she concluded.

Clearly made uncomfortable by such a reminder, he begrudgingly nodded in agreement. “I was.”

“Therefore, they too are aware of your presence that night,” she countered. Steeling herself as she prepared to venture into a topic on which she had no desire to speak, she quietly reminded herself that it was a matter which needed to be addressed, for he was just as susceptible to speculation as she.

Observing him in silence, she noted him shifting uncomfortably in his seat, drawing his eyes from her as his color rose once more. Where she was going with this line of questioning she was sure he knew not, assuming only that it could lead nowhere good. But after a few moments more, he relented, mumbling quietly in response, “It is possible.”

“You say the strength of your reputation will help to protect me, but what strength can it have when you were seen engaging in such behavior? When you were seen… purchasing me.”

His knee now twitching nervously in response, he turned his gaze to the floor; his cheeks glowing hotly as he answered in ungentlemanly honesty. “Such behavior does not besmirch the reputation of a man as it does a woman.”

Both growing increasingly uncomfortable with the course of their conversation, Elizabeth experienced an intense, though temporary rush of relief upon seeing him turn his eyes away. Capitalizing on his moment of inattention, she too diverted her gaze, casting her eyes to her lap and finding that she had at some point begun worrying her nails, no doubt as an outlet for her nervousness. Drawing a deep, steadying breath, she clasped her hands tightly in her lap and again called forth her reasons for pursuing such distasteful and offensive conversation, silently reminding herself of its necessity.

Forcing her gaze once more to the anxious gentleman seated across from her, she braced herself as she asked, “Forgive me such impropriety, but I must ask how frequently you indulge in such proclivities.”

His head snapped to attention at once – so quickly as to cause her to flinch in surprise – as he hastened to dispel this misunderstanding. “I do not.”

Overwhelmed by the intensity with which he now regarded her, she dropped her eyes once again; the embarrassment born of such an indelicate and indiscreet conversation routing her resolve momentarily. But unwilling to be deterred from her point, she leveled her gaze at him after a moment and said, “Surely you understand that I am no longer a woman blind to the workings of our world. I understand that such is the behavior of many men. But it is one which I cannot condone.”

“And you shall not be asked to,” he insisted, unconsciously shifting forward as he did so. “I have never before set foot in such a place and never shall again. I find such penchants unpardonable.”

“If this is true, then why were you there at all?”

Again, the frankness of her question and the censure in her eyes drove his gaze from her, and she allotted him the time necessary to gather his thoughts. Eventually returning his attention to her, though unable to meet her eyes, he answered, “There is nothing I can offer in defense of my presence that night. I can only say that I was tempted in a moment of great weakness, one for which I am rightfully shamed.” Finally rising to meet her gaze, he admitted, “But I am forever thankful that I did.

“As I had regained my senses and was set to return home, I was, although it did not feel so at the time, fortunate in being delayed, granting me the opportunity to catch sight of you. And once I realized that it was indeed you standing before me, I was determined I would not leave without you.”

Now it was her turn to seek a respite from the power of his stare, turning her attention to the mantle clock as it chimed the quarter hour. “I am eternally thankful as well.”

“Pray know Miss Bennet, that should you accept me, you shall be ensured a husband whose morals and values shall match your own.”

Still too overcome to meet his gaze, she thanked him for his candor in addressing her concerns; their discussion a direct violation of the rules of propriety and etiquette which governed their daily lives. Seeking to move them once more towards safer waters, she then raised the next matter for which she sought reassurance: broaching the possibility of what would happen if she were to be recognized again.

“You have my word that I will stand beside you regardless,” he vowed.

“Yes, I do believe that you would, but perhaps what I wish to know is how you may respond in the immediate, should such a situation present itself. What do you intend to do if I do encounter the… gentleman,” pausing for a moment, she found herself having to swallow heavily against honoring the rake with such a title, “again, if he should approach me in a store or a ballroom? Or any other?”

“I believe I cannot, in truth, account for precisely how I may respond in such a moment, but I shall be certain to assert that he, whoever he may be, is quite mistaken.” His somber tone then broke momentarily as the corner of his mouth ticked up ever so slightly, the faintest of smirks gracing his lips. “I have been told I can be quite formidable at times, whether it is my intention or not.”

This finally drew at least a small laugh from her as well, breaking the tension between them for a few short seconds before his mien sobered and it became clear he wished to say more. When he did finally speak, she was caught unawares by the directness of his query, now finding herself on the receiving end of an uncomfortable question. “Miss Bennet, pray forgive me for asking you to speak of memories which must surely pain you, but would you be able to describe the man who approached you? Perhaps I may, from your description, be able to determine his identity.”

That she was surprised to receive such an inquiry was clear, but she had to admit it was information that may be of importance to him should they proceed along this path. But as she attempted to once again summon forth the memory of their encounter, she was surprised to find it difficult to focus on many of the particulars. Her brows knit in deep contemplation, she struggled to call to mind the face that, until now, seemed to be all she could think on. “It all happened so quickly, I fear I did not take the time to consider him too closely,” she finally answered.

“I do recall he was not too tall, perhaps closer in height to my uncle than a man of your stature.” Pausing again, she struggled to beckon forth further details. “His hair was dark, darker than yours… And his nose. ‘Twas wide and a bit crooked, I do remember that.” But she was disappointed and left quite unsettled to find there remained no other descriptors which she could provide. “I am sorry, that is all I can recall.”

Declaring her apology unnecessary, he appeared a bit more at ease, thanking her for entertaining such an impolite inquiry and apologizing again for asking it of her.

“Do you know him?”

“No, I cannot think of any among my acquaintance who would match such a description. Whoever he was, I believe I can in good faith say that he is not one of those from my circle who I know to have been present.”

“You do not believe I shall have cause to encounter him again, then?”

“Not among our Society, no.”

Her relief at hearing this acute, she released the breath she had not even realized she was holding. And although aware that this by no means guaranteed she would not cross paths with him again, or any other, it did provide her a small measure of reassurance. But this was only one of many concerns for which she required relief, and taking up the conversation once again, she raised yet another matter with which she had been grappling.

“I do apologize for taxing you with so many questions, but I fear there is yet another on which I need ask.” Espying no sign that he was unwilling to continue, she ventured on, seeking clarification on her last great concern: his expectations in their marriage. “When we spoke last, you said that I would be free to choose at which of your properties I will reside. Pray Sir, could you expound upon what you mean by that?”

Quietly clearing his throat, he responded, “I have several properties from which you may select. I reside primarily at my family’s estate in Derbyshire, as does Georgiana. When we are not there, we are often to be found here in London. But I also have smaller, yet comfortable properties in Scotland and Suffolk which have been attained over the past few generation through marriage.”

“You do not expect your wife to reside in your home?” She asked, struggling to understand why he would wish to tie himself to a woman who would not even share his house.

“I am in earnest,” though it pained him to say so.

“But would we not raise the suspicions of your staff and peers if we did not occupy the same home?”

“It is not unheard of in my circle. There are any number of spouses who do not reside together.”

But despite this reassurance, she found her conscience was not so easily appeased. If she were to accept his proposal, assuming his name and utilizing his wealth to provide for her family, she knew she would not be able to excuse herself to then live a life separate from him. Nor Georgiana. Her integrity she knew would not allow for such.

“May I ask, if we were to marry, where you would prefer I made my home?”

She could easily discern the discomfort he experienced at being asked this, his gaze once again resting anywhere but upon her as he absently twisted his signet ring, a nervous tic in which he had been engaged for much of their tête-à-tête. After what seemed several long minutes of tense anticipation, but likely only lasting a matter of seconds, he answered as honestly as she had asked of him. “Pemberley has been without a mistress for many years now. I must own to hoping that you may be willing to assume that role.” Pausing for a moment, he then added, “I have no doubt that you would make a fine Mistress of Pemberley.”

Her suspicions confirmed, she knew the time had come at last. “If I am to reside with you and Georgiana at Pemberley and here in London, I find I must ask… if you will forgive my forwardness… of your expectations should I accept your proposal.”

Seeking to gauge his reaction to such a question, she studied him closely, noting the slight furrowing of his brow and faint downturn of his lips as he considered her question. “My expectations remain the same of any gentleman. My home shall be yours to manage, my staff yours to direct. Whether we are in Derbyshire or here in London, should you choose to accompany me, you shall be the mistress of the house and charged with all the duties thus entailed.”

Sensing his misunderstanding, she could feel her heart beginning to pound more heavily, her nerves coming alive as she realized the need for her to be more candid. Humiliation flooding her as she considered how to phrase her question more directly, she could feel her cheeks burning brighter still, a feat which she had not thought possible.

“Those are not the expectations of which I speak.”

“I am afraid I do not understand your meaning.”

Fixing her gaze firmly upon the window behind him, she drew a choppy breath before finally declaring, “I am no fool, Sir. I understand that you shall require an heir…”

The air now thick with equal parts tension and mortification, Elizabeth felt as if she could not breathe, suffocating in an atmosphere crackling with nervous energy. The deafening silence again held them tightly in its grasp as the gentleman had clearly not been prepared to address this matter, and she was not entirely certain she wished to know the truth. He had sworn to answer her questions honestly, yet she now worried that she had finally met the boundaries of such candor, or worse had surpassed them.

His head bowed in quiet contemplation, the silence stretched on for several long moments until at long last he finally raised his eyes to her’s and declared, “I will not lie to you, as the last thing I wish to do is deceive you in such a way.” Pausing to draw a deep breath, he then confessed, “It is my hope that given time and the… familiarity inherent to such a union that you may grow comfortable in our marriage… with me… to someday allow for greater intimacy.”

Seeing her turn away quickly, he then rushed to reassure her of his dedication to her comfort and safety, “But pray know that I will always honor your wishes. There is nothing of me which you need fear.”

Her eyes clouding and her lips pressed tightly together, she struggled to maintain her equanimity; the confirmation that she would someday be expected to perform the full duties of a wife too much to bear at the moment. But she indeed was no fool and had given this possibility considerable thought over the past few days, recognizing this as an important aspect of the reality now facing her. Having been prepared to receive just such a confirmation, she now sought solace in his vow to offer her time and space to come to terms with such, responding merely with, “I thank you for your honesty.” Then taking a few moments more to gather her thoughts and regain her composure, she found there remained only one other question for which she required an answer.

“Why do you wish to do this?”

“A great wrong has been committed against you Miss Bennet,” he replied, “one which I am determined to see set right. I have at my disposal the means to provide for yourself and your family, but not the right. As your husband, I shall be able to see your mother and sisters settled far from the power of your cousin, to see you restored to your rightful place in Society, and to return to you a future which was taken by the likes of Mr. Collins.

“And in return I shall gain a mistress for my home, should you choose to reside there, and a sister for Georgiana. Your friendship has, in the short duration of your acquaintance, breathed new life into my sister, and I have no doubt that she will positively blossom under your care. She has the support of a… well to be honest, an overly protective older brother, but it is a sister’s love which she needs as she prepares to enter Society. There is no other I can think of whose guidance she would value more.”

The room growing still following his speech, Elizabeth turned her attention towards the window, striving to process all she had heard as she decided her fate. That he had been willing to entertain her questions, answering them honestly despite the indelicacy and embarrassment, spoke louder than his words. But she had to admit that even those had offered some small measure of reassurance. And though by no means entirely at peace with her decision and still harboring numerous concerns, she reluctantly resolved herself to her decision. Thinking of Jane, of all her sisters, she returned her attention to him, drawing a calming breath and releasing it slowly before answering.

“I thank you for your honesty and willingness to address my concerns, and I am indeed humbled by your offer, Mr. Darcy. I am honored to accept.”


	25. Chapter 25

_I am indeed humbled by your offer, Mr. Darcy. I am honored to accept._

Words that had filled his head, his heart, his every waking moment since first being graced with their sweet sound. Initially, he had not been certain he had heard her correctly, convinced his all-too-honest confessions had forever dashed any hope for their union. In astonishment, he had spent several long, torturous moments believing his ears had deceived him, that she could not possibly have accepted him after all this. And yet, as she had finally rallied the courage to return her eyes to his, he could see the truth of her answer reflected therein. Clouded with confusion and uncertainty, but there nonetheless. What he had finally uttered in response he knew not, nor likely ever would, but he felt assured it had been some acknowledgement of her acceptance. Then recommending and receiving her agreement that they should meet again on the morrow, this time with the Gardiners present as well, he had again thanked her for her time and excused himself from the premises.

What had possessed him to do so he could not say, having at the time attributed his hasty departure to the necessity of meeting with his solicitor. Could it have been the desperate need for a moment to collect himself, free from her penetrating gaze as his emotions raged within? Or perhaps the desire to flee her company lest she reconsider her decision and rescind her acceptance? Whatever excuse it may be, he was again berating himself for having ended their interview so abruptly, as he had for much of the past two days.

Yet here he stood, passing his overcoat and top hat off to the ever-attentive Mr. Hawkins and receiving the butler’s assurances that all was progressing splendidly as the staff prepared for their guests. Dismissing the man to his work, Mr. Darcy soon found himself standing alone, once more surrounded by the stillness of Darcy House, a silence which had haunted him for much of his life. Taking the moment to study the entry hall, he found his eyes drawn to various aspects of the décor, marking it as a residence of elegance and its inhabitants ones of status. Tonight, Elizabeth would once again stand in this very hall, viewing it for the first time as her future home; the realization of such casting the space in an entirely new light.

It had been a great many years since Darcy House had known the care and grace of a mistress; his mother having preferred to make Pemberley her home, seldom traveling to London for any length of time. With Georgiana being far too young to truly command the home as a lady should, the décor had over time become increasingly masculine, the absence of a woman’s touch now blindingly evident as he studied the paintings and draperies adorning the walls. If he should be so lucky as to have Elizabeth reside with him – her decision in the matter as yet unclear – he held no doubt that his ancestral homes, both in town and Derbyshire, would be born anew. And the silence, that damned deafening silence which followed him wherever he traveled, would be no more.

But she had not yet offered any indication as to her intentions in that regard, and while they and the Gardiners had addressed a number of details concerning the impending wedding during their meeting the morning prior, Elizabeth’s thoughts as they pertained to the details of their marriage remained a mystery still.

_“Mr. Gardiner, Mrs. Gardiner, Miss Bennet.”_

_Having discovered upon his arrival that he was being shown to Mr. Gardiner’s study, as opposed to the morning room, he momentarily was overcome with the irrational, gut-wrenching fear that he was about to receive rather distressing news: the worst of which being Elizabeth’s decision to withdraw her consent. It was in truth this very concern which had prevented him from sharing news of his engagement with his sister the evening prior; the memory of the lady’s eyes clouded by tears, her manner crying her distress as she had accepted his proposal unshakable._

_But upon entering and espying both Elizabeth, seated in a chair before her uncle’s desk, and Mrs. Gardiner, residing beside the fire as she labored over her sewing, his anxieties began to calm. Gracious in his acceptance of Mr. Gardiner’s invitation to join them, he was pleased at finding himself seated beside his betrothed, an arrangement which filled him simultaneously with a surge of relief as well as a flood of nervous energy, a combination of which he had never before thought possible. “I thank you for making the time to meet with me this morning.”_

_“Yes, I do believe there is quite a bit which we need discuss,” Mr. Gardiner replied. “Lizzy tells us that she has accepted your offer.”_

_“Yes, Sir,” he replied, hazarding a glance at his fiancée only to find her attention focused rather firmly on her hands, which were clasped tightly about the volume of poetry currently resting in her lap. Disheartened at finding her unwilling to meet his gaze, he returned his attention to her uncle, continuing, “I felt it imperative that we meet and determine the course along which it may be best for us to proceed.”_

_Agreeing, Mr. Gardiner suggested, “I do not believe there is one among us who does not harbor a great number of concerns. Perhaps it may be prudent to begin with a discussion of your expectations.”_

_For a moment, Mr. Darcy felt his face flush, recalling the manner in which his expectations had been addressed the previous morning, a confession of which he had not at the time been prepared to make. His eyes darting briefly to Elizabeth, he noted that her cheeks had also colored considerably upon hearing her uncle’s words, leaving him to question just how much of their conversation had been relayed to her relatives._

_Quietly clearing his throat, he inquired after Mr. Gardiner’s meaning and was grateful to learn that it was his intentions concerning the wedding ceremony itself to which the tradesman referred. “I believe it to be in our best interest to proceed according to custom,” he replied. “An elopement would only invite undesired attention and an increased potential for scandal, which I am sure we can all agree should be avoided at all cost.”_

_Humming in agreement, Mr. Gardiner seconded the idea, turning to Elizabeth and inquiring after her thoughts on the matter. Finally raising her head, she nodded faintly in agreement. “I do not wish to elope.”_

_“However, the pressing matter of Mr. Collins does not allow us the luxury of time,” Mr. Darcy then added._

_“Yes, that leaves us in a rather prickly position. I fear each day my sister and nieces remain at Longbourn places them in greater peril.”_

_“Yet we shall draw some amount of speculation if we are to marry too quickly after announcing our engagement. While we need only await the reading of the banns, I fear marrying immediately following their conclusion will draw undue attention. To minimize any speculation which we may encounter, I believe we do need to allot time for word of our betrothal to spread and to make our appearances as an engaged couple.”_

_“However in doing so,” Elizabeth then observed, her voice sounding raspy and uncertain as she spoke, “we risk news of such appearing in the papers, which will undoubtedly reach Longbourn and reveal my presence in London. As would, I fear, the reading of our names in the banns.”_

_“Ah yes,” Mr. Gardiner then sighed. “We cannot forget the gossip columns, the only current affairs in which either of my sisters has ever held any interest.”_

_Settling into silence, Mr. Darcy was to some extent displeased with such an oversight in his own rationale. He had recognized it would be crucial that the couple make at least a few appearances in Society ahead of their wedding in an attempt to dissuade scandal or rampant speculation. Particularly given the fact that Elizabeth was unknown to the Ton, he also knew there would undoubtedly be a great amount of curiosity surrounding the match. If at least some of that could be offset by making their appearances at selective gatherings of family and close acquaintances, it would hopefully ease the scrutiny which would greet them following the marriage announcement._

_However, he had overlooked what was now a glaringly obvious consequence of doing so: news that a very wealthy, very eligible and long sought-after bachelor of the First Circle had at last been claimed would undoubtedly find its place in the Society pages of numerous papers. As would the appearance of Elizabeth’s name. Should the Bennet women still reside under the power of Mr. Collins when such news reaches Meryton, there was no predicting what may befall them. And even more concerning, what actions may be taken to prevent their union._

_“If Lizzy and Mr. Darcy are to marry before long however,” Mrs. Gardiner then interjected, drawing their attention to her place beside the fire, “then perhaps we may extend the invitation Fanny has been seeking to join us in London for Christmas.”_

_“Yes!” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed, slapping his thigh in excitement as the pieces quickly started falling into place. “This would allow us to remove them from Longbourn, securing them safely here in London within a matter of weeks.”_

_“It would also allot the time needed to secure for them a new home in which to live. For they can remain with us as long as is needed to see them settled safely in a residence of their own,” Mrs. Gardiner concluded._

_“And they would then be able to attend the wedding,” Elizabeth observed. “I do so wish to have Mama and all my sisters there,” Elizabeth declared, her eyes growing a bit misty at the prospect of having finally found a means to secure her family’s safety, not to mention the joy of finally being reunited with her loved ones._

_“But pray know,” Mrs. Gardiner then added, casting a knowing look to her husband and niece, “that the moment Fanny discovers Lizzy and Mr. Darcy are to marry, it will be impossible to prevent her sending news of their marriage home to Meryton.”_

_His good mood visibly deflating, Mr. Gardiner agreed, observing that once Fanny was aware of the impending union, so would everyone else, including Mr. Collins._

_“I believe,” Mr. Darcy then asserted, “it is imperative that our nuptials must be concluded before word may reach Mr. Collins.”_

_“If Mama and my sisters are safely removed from Longbourn at that time, what does it matter?”_

_Shifting slightly in his seat, he turned the entirety of his attention on his betrothed, searching for the words which would convey his point yet not leave her with cause to worry. “While he holds no legal standing to prevent our nuptials, I believe it in our best interest to delay alerting him before they may be concluded. Your discovery leaves him as well as his actions exposed to some degree, a realization of which could drive him towards seeking… other means for preventing our union._

_“I do not believe you will truly be safe and free from his influence until our marriage takes place.”_

_Studying her closely, he could tell the implications behind his words had not been lost upon her. As he watched the light fade once more from her eyes, a light which had been rekindled ever so briefly, he could not suppress the guilt he felt at snuffing out the small spark of hope she had finally found. But his guilt did not make the truth of his words any less real, and he was determined to see her safely settled in their marriage before her cousin could learn of her whereabouts._

_“But it seems from all we have said that it shall be impossible to ensure that does not happen,” Elizabeth finally said. “Either we risk scandal from wedding too soon or too quietly, or in seeking to protect our reputations, we expose to Mr. Collins one way or another my presence in Ton. It seems there is no manner in which our marriage may take place without risking us all.”_

Just as I had predicted, _he was sure she wished to add._

_Once again the room fell into silence, each retreating into their private thoughts as they grappled with the realities of their situation. The removal of the Bennet women was essential, as was continuing to conceal Elizabeth’s discovery from the man who sought to destroy her. But the need to conduct their engagement in a manner which followed custom and would limit speculations surrounding their union could not be ignored. It truly did seem a hopeless cause._

_After several minutes spent in this manner, the truth of their situation seeming all the more dire, it was finally Mr. Darcy who broke the silence. “I believe I may have the answer.”_

And just like that, the details of his impending marriage to Miss Elizabeth Bennet had fallen into place, a possibility which had just one week prior seemed entirely impossible. Having just returned from his solicitor’s office to check on the progress of the marriage contract, he now was left merely with the task of preparing for the arrival of his dinner guests: Elizabeth and the Gardiners, coming with the expressed intent of announcing their betrothal to Georgiana and marking the beginning of their formal engagement.

Mounting the stairs to his chamber, he was not surprised to find Mr. Fletcher already awaiting him, a bath drawn and his clothes for the evening having been selected with considerable care by his ever-attentive valet. Although he had not yet announced his engagement to his staff, not wanting to do so before informing Georgiana, he had not troubled himself to be overly subtle when he alerted the key members of his staff to their impending dinner, stressing the special nature of the meal and importance of his guests without declaring the purpose outright. Assuming once left to speculate among themselves, he hoped they would be able to piece together his cryptic comments on their own and therefore not be caught off-guard by what may be overheard during the course of the evening. The formal announcement he planned for the following morning.

Three hours later, the master of the house was to be found milling about the lower level, surveying the settings in the dining room with meticulous care as well as personally calling on Mrs. Avery to ensure all was in order for their meal; behavior which may have otherwise appeared disconcerting to his servants had they not already arrived at their own conclusions concerning the significance of the evening. When at last the bell rang to announce his guests, and much to the relief of his increasingly harried staff, Mr. Darcy was on hand to welcome them once again to his home.

“Well, a very good evening to you as well, Sir,” Mr. Gardiner jested, amused at finding his host so eager in greeting them.

“I hope the rain has not made your journey too tedious,” was all he could offer in return, attempting to ignore the slight touch of heat he felt creeping from under his cravat.

“Thankfully the lanes were not too treacherous,” Elizabeth answered, her reply catching him quite pleasantly by surprise as she had been so reticent to engage him during their previous meeting. “However, I fear if this is to continue I do believe we may require an ark for our return.”

Nodding solemnly in response, he assured her, “I shall be sure to set the footmen to task at once. I have little doubt they should be able to complete it by the conclusion of dessert, at the very latest.”

Seeing her cheeks color prettily, Mr. Darcy was left well-pleased with his ability to banter with his fiancée, a feat which he had rarely found to be the case for much of their acquaintance. Then inviting his guests to follow him to the drawing room above, he found himself a bit uncertain as to how to proceed. With Mr. Gardiner offering his arm to his wife, the gentleman quite suddenly realized he had been left with the honor of escorting Elizabeth, one which would be his to claim for the remainder of their days. But given the uncomfortable nature of their recent interactions, he remained uncertain of how receptive she would be to such a gesture.

Finally electing to err on the side of etiquette, he politely presented his arm and was more delighted than he cared to admit when she demonstrated only a slight hesitancy in accepting. Laying her hand lightly upon his arm, he could feel the skin beneath begin to tingle, absorbing the warmth of her touch despite the many layers of cloth still separating them. Their gazes meeting for but a second or two in a show of unspoken understanding, they ascended to the drawing room in silence; the significance of the moment not lost upon them.

Their party now gathered as one, Mr. Darcy took the opportunity to study Elizabeth as she engaged in happy conversation with his sister; the two sharing the activities and events with which they had been entertaining themselves since last they met. In doing so, he could not help but note the curious turn in her demeanor since their interviews on Gracechurch Street. Her smile seemed to be genuine and open as they talked, yet he could not help sensing that there remained an air of apprehension about her still; one which he had come to know rather well in the past week. Was it perhaps Georgiana’s presence which helped lighten her spirits?

However, he would not be afforded the time to ponder on the change in his betrothed as a knock upon the door announced the arrival of the champagne he had specifically selected to begin their evening. Determined to convince Georgiana that all was well and happy with their betrothal – and hopefully avoid any questions should she begin to detect something was amiss – he had decided to present the engagement in the same manner he would had Elizabeth accepted him under happier circumstances.

With the glasses distributed, much to the delight of those assembled, he moved to stand before the group, drawing their attention to his person. “If I may, pray allow me the opportunity to express my deepest gratitude to you all for joining me this evening; I am indeed humbled to be surrounded by such good friends and beloved family,” raising his glass slightly in recognition of his guests. “It pleases me greatly to be able to have you all here this evening to celebrate this… momentous occasion. It is with great pleasure that I announce I have asked Miss Bennet for her hand in marriage, and she has been so generous as to accept.”

Gasping, Georgiana’s hands flew to her lips, her eyes growing wide in surprise as she whispered, “Truly?”

“Truly.”

“Oh! I am so very happy for you both!” The young girl then gushed, leaping from her seat to rush to her friend’s side, hugging her where she sat as she profusely expressed her delight in their engagement.

Seconding her sentiments, Mr. Gardiner then raised his glass in toast, leading the small party in conveying their blessings and congratulations on the young couple, who were gracious in receipt of their felicitations.

“When do you believe you shall wed?” Georgiana then asked, her countenance aglow with excitement.

“We have settled upon January seventh.”

“Yes, my aunt has invited Mama and my sisters to join them for Twelfth Night,” she explained, a spark of levity peeking through as she quipped, “and as I would not dream to tear them from the holiday celebrations in Meryton, we have decided to celebrate our nuptials at the same time as they shall be in town.”

“Oh, that sounds delightful! I do so look forward to making the acquaintance of your sisters.”

“They shall be your sisters, as well,” Elizabeth noted, watching as a range of emotions played across the young girl’s face: shock, comprehension, uncertainty, and at last joy.

“And shall you remain in London for the holidays?” Georgiana asked hopefully and was delighted to hear that her new friend would be indeed.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy and I believe the holiday festivities offer an opportune time to share our news and make the acquaintances of our dearest family and friends.”

“Oh!” Georgiana exclaimed, having clearly been struck with yet another realization at the mention of beloved family. Turning her attention to her brother, she ventured, “Perhaps Richard may join us in time to attend the wedding! Did he not say he expects to return to London early in the new year?”

A prospect of which he had not yet considered, Mr. Darcy was caught quite by surprise as well; his own countenance lightening as he replied, “He did indeed. I shall be sure to write to him and inquire as to the likelihood of his returning in time.” Then looking to Elizabeth to gauge her thoughts on the matter, he noted she was watching their exchange closely, curiosity as to whom they were discussing evident.

“Our cousin, Colonel Fitzwilliam,” he clarified. “His duties to his regiment require him to remain in the south through the end of the year. But he has conveyed his belief that he may be free to join us soon thereafter.”

Her smile genuine but not without a bit of apprehension, she expressed her very great pleasure at enjoying his company once more and echoed their hope that he may return in time for their nuptials. However, any further discussion of the Colonel was halted by the call to dinner. Once more presenting his arm to his betrothed as well as his sister, the party then made their way to the dining room below; Mr. Darcy’s chest swelling a bit with pride as he walked with the two most important women in his life at his side.

*****PnP*****

“Would you care for more port or perhaps brandy?”

“I believe a brandy would be greatly appreciated, Sir, I thank you.” Accepting the glass offered by his host, Mr. Gardiner settled comfortably into one of the large leather arm chairs situated beside the fire in Mr. Darcy’s study. Swirling his glass as he basked in its warmth, he could not help jesting, “I fear I may already have met the extent of my interest in wedding talk.”

Smiling slightly in response, Mr. Darcy elected not to comment, having for the first time in his life found a dinner consumed while listening to women chatter about flowers and trousseaus rather pleasurable. Pouring a glass for himself, he paused momentarily at his desk, withdrawing a letter from the top drawer before also settling into the plush cushions warmed by the fire. Raising their glasses slightly in a silent toast, he allowed the first sip to warm his lips, savoring the moment of quiet before turning over the missive he had retrieved from his desk.

“I received this from my man in Kent yesterday. I believe you will find its contents to be of particular interest.” Then relaxing further into his seat, he quietly observed Mr. Gardiner as he reviewed the letter, one which he had already read countless times. So many so that he had it practically committed to memory:

_November 26, 1811_

_Sir,_

_Pray, forgive me the delay in my response to your letter. I have, since receiving your latest correspondence, been hard at work gathering any information of which I am able and confirming several accounts before passing them along to you. In doing so, I have recently uncovered two situations which may be of interest to your inquiry._

_First, I wish to address your desire to learn more of C--- movements during his time in H---. Prior to his marriage, it was the regular habit of the gentleman to travel to London for several days each month. The explanations provided to the Lady in defense of these frequent absences were a claim of business dealings which required his personal attention as well as wishing to tend to a dear cousin who was gravely ill. Despite repeated declarations by the Lady that there was no business more important than that of the congregation, and advising that the ailing cousin would be much better served by the care of her personal physician rather than those charlatans to be found in Ton, she granted her permission for his travels._

_Once married, the frequencies of these trips decreased rather sharply, and it is estimated that he only traveled to London twice before leaving H--- to claim his inheritance._

_As to the two discoveries which I believe will be of interest to you, they are as such: first, that the new rector, who has only held the position for this month past, has discovered a large discrepancy in the accounting of the parish’s funds. Upon discerning that there appears to be a significant sum missing from the parish’s vault, the new rector brought the matter to the Lady’s attention at once. However, she declared the discrepancy to be a simple mistake in addition and has since ordered Mr. J--- to abandon the matter entirely; a response which caught him quite by surprise and has left him, I can confirm, most seriously displeased. But as the Lady holds the power to dismiss him from his post – and he has a new babe and wife to tend to – he has let the matter rest._

_The second discovery is in truth a continuation of a matter which we have previously discussed. Upon learning of the missing funds and in light of your inquiry, I have begun to question the dismissal of the thieving maid. For we have, since her dismissal, discovered several more items missing from the estate, the most shocking – and valuable – being several pieces of the Lady’s jewelry, most notably the family brooch. The brooch was last worn by the Lady at the farewell dinner party she hosted for C---, two days before he and his wife removed to H---, and a month after the girl’s removal from the estate. While any of the other items could indeed still have been taken by the young girl and have simply gone undetected until now, in the case of the family brooch, we can confirm that it had remained in the possession of the Lady until well after the suspected thief was removed._

_I cannot confirm at this time if there is indeed a connection between these discoveries and the gentleman in question; however, if you wish me to proceed with investigating them further, I believe the new rector would be more than willing to quietly take up the matter once more._

_As always, I shall await your response before proceeding further._

_Your servant,  
R_

Allowing his guest the opportunity to read through the missive several times, Mr. Darcy quietly noted each successive review drawing forth the faintest of smirks. At last returning his attention to his host, Mr. Gardiner inquired after the reference to the “thieving maid.”

“Earlier this year, it was discovered that several items had disappeared from the house; pieces of silver, gold figurines and the like. Items which would be fairly easy to smuggle from the property and sold for some small sum of money. While my man was in the midst of looking into the matter, the housekeeper reported the missing items to Lady Catherine, who promptly dismissed a young maid; her logic being that the girl was the last person she had seen in the room from which several of the items had disappeared and therefore must be the thief. The room in question being the drawing room, the one in which my aunt entertains all of her guests.

“When I arrived in Kent for my annual visit-”

“Ah, yes! Would that be the one in which you encountered Elizabeth?” Mr. Gardiner asked, regarding his host with a quirked eyebrow and knowing grin.

Caught off his guard by such a reminder, he stuttered briefly in response, “Y-y-y-yes, this April past.” Pausing for a moment to clear his throat, he then continued, “When I arrived and met with Mr. Robbins, he provided me with what he believed to be the complete list of items which had been taken and reported that no other items had as yet gone missing following the girl’s dismissal. We had believed the issue to be resolved.”

“And what is this brooch to which he refers?”

“The de Bourgh brooch is an heirloom which has been with the family for centuries. Every Lady de Bourgh since the fifteenth century has worn it proudly as a sign of her status as well as her place in a long line of noblewomen.”

“What a shame it must be then to suffer the loss of such a lovely heirloom,” Mr. Gardiner sympathized.

“Oh no, tis a horrid, gaudy thing,” Mr. Darcy scoffed. “Much like many of the women who have worn it, I am sure.”

Mr. Gardiner, having been in the midst of sipping his brandy, promptly choked on his drink, coughing loudly as he attempted to clear the liquor from his lungs. Finally regaining control after a few moments, he could not help but chuckle, “Touché.”

“The brooch is however very unique and quite valuable. I will ask Mr. Robbins to scour the area and see if whoever did take it either sold it or at least attempted to sell it to any jeweler or shopkeepers in Kent. I plan to do so here in London, and perhaps your man at Longbourn could do the same in Hertfordshire?”

“If you will but provide me with a written description of it that I can forward along to him.”

“Of course. I will also direct Mr. Robbins to work with the new rector on investigating the parish’s missing funds.”

“Theft from the Church _and_ the gentry? Those would certainly be grave misdeeds which I am confident the courts would not look kindly upon.” Receiving a nod of agreement from his companion, Mr. Gardiner then speculated, “We know the madame’s vice of choice lies at the gaming tables. With this new insight into the happenings in Kent, are we then to assume the same can be said for Mr. Collins? Otherwise that would be a great deal of money to steal and risk to take for pursuing… her other business dealings.”

Humming in agreement, Mr. Darcy admitted to having made a similar leap. A shared addiction to the gaming tables would certainly explain how their paths crossed, launching a plot which would be fiscally beneficial to them both and continue to feed their destructive habit. “If such is the case, how long will it be before he once again is in desperate need of money?”

“If he truly is squandering so quickly what little he receives from Longbourn, I fear it will not be long.”

“I do hope we are correct in our estimation of him then,” Mr. Darcy said, “and that he would not dream to sell off another of his cousins with a family trip to London approaching.”

“Yes, we can but hope,” Mr. Gardiner sighed, and after a few moments spent in grim silence, he suggested they shake off such concerns for now and return to the pleasurable company of the ladies. Seconding the motion, both men finished the last of their brandy and made their way towards the drawing room, once again greeted by the jovial sounds of women’s laughter and Elizabeth’s agreeing, “Yes, I do so look forward to it.”

“Look forward to what, my dear?” Mr. Gardiner queried; the gentlemen assumed their places beside their loved ones.

“Georgiana was just sharing some of her memories from summers at Pemberley and assures me that I will take great pleasure in exploring the many peaks and valleys of Derbyshire,” Elizabeth explained. Pausing for a moment, she then raised her gaze to Mr. Darcy, her cheeks coloring lightly as she replied, “And I was telling her how very much I look forward to many summers spent exploring the grounds of Pemberley.”

*****PnP*****

Seated at the dressing table in her chamber, the darkness of the evening’s late hour dispelled only by the soft glow of the candle beside her, Elizabeth sat in quiet contemplation of the shadowed countenance gazing back her. A reflection which just six weeks prior had hardly been recognizable as her own, but had since slowly transformed into the face she had known before. The gauntness of her features had over time begun to fill out once more; her cheeks regaining their subtle plumpness; her lips growing full and pink. Even her thick, straggly mane had been revitalized, her wild and unruly mass of curls once again soft and silky.

But the eyes into which she peered still reflected the truth hidden within. For the eyes staring back at her were wearied from countless nights of restless sleep; nights in which she was either met with sleeplessness or slumbers disturbed by nightmares and painful memories. Eyes that were anxious and fearful as they gazed into the darkness of an uncertain future. While she knew her path to now be one forever intertwined with that of Mr. Darcy, what that meant for her she still knew not.

Releasing a wearied sigh, Elizabeth fingers numbly sought the pins scattered amongst her curls, absently pulling them one by one as she allowed her mind to turn over the happenings of the past few days. Since first receiving Mr. Darcy’s proposal of marriage a few days prior, Elizabeth had felt trapped, caught in a raging, treacherous storm of emotions. From relief at finally having a set-course along which to travel to fears of what perils awaited her, she had felt herself akin to a leaf being tossed about by the wind.

In her acceptance of his proposal, she had been left feeling overwhelmed – and not without a great deal of embarrassment – by all they had discussed, by the promises made and the expectations expressed. And in the silence which had followed her acceptance, she had believed him to have fallen into a similar state. Yet with his abrupt departure following thereafter, she had quickly been thrown into a whole new sense of upheaval, gripped by the sudden and humiliating suspicion that he had not, in truth, actually meant for her to accept his offer. The thought that it had perhaps been offered merely out of a misplaced sense of obligation or politeness terrified her, and in attributing his sudden withdrawal from the house as a need for solitude, she feared that it was done in order to seek a way out of an engagement into which he had not truly intended to fall.

It was this paranoia which had plagued her for the following twenty-four hours, causing her to avoid her relatives for much of that time, and one which was not put to rest until the following morning when she found herself once more in the gentleman’s company. Prepared for him to either cancel their meeting or to declare that he held no intentions of following through with his proposal, she had been relieved to find him set on determining the proper course along which their engagement need proceed, one which would both shelter her family and protect her reputation. And with the renewal of his determination to proceed with the marriage, she had found her spirits buoyed by the realization that there was now in place a means of saving them all.

However, this new-found solace by no means equated with now feeling comfortable in his presence nor his home. But resolving herself to meeting the challenge in that quarter, she had endeavored to overcome her discomfort earlier that night as they dined at Darcy House, determine to put forth a smiling countenance and gracious air; a performance which had at first been difficult to maintain.

Upon arriving at the Darcy’s home, the grandeur of the house had not been lost upon her, awing her in much the same manner it had upon her previous visits. Mounting its steps and standing within the entrance hall, she had been struck rather forcibly by the realization that it all would soon be hers to manage. And though her mother had prepared her daughters to someday manage a home of their own, she had never considered that it would be one on such a large scale as this. Nor had she been prepared to direct a staff whom were already privy to her darkest secrets.

As the evening had continued, however, she had found the need for a cheerful façade slowly being replaced with one that was genuine in its pleasure. Between Georgiana’s jovial demeanor and her relatives’ enlightened and entertaining conversation, her good mood had eventually returned, finally granting her the courage needed to convey to her betrothed the answer to a question she could not doubt plagued him. And upon seeing his eyes light in understanding of her subtle admission, she had breathed easier sensing the pleasure such a revelation had brought him.

Her thoughts interrupted by a knocking upon her door, she granted her aunt – for surely it was Aunt Madeline who would visit her at this late hour – permission to enter. Greeted with a warm smile and an offer to help Elizabeth undress, she accepted her aunt’s assistance and rose from the dressing table.

“I must say I believe the evening went quite well,” Mrs. Gardiner observed, undoing the buttons at the back of her gown. “Georgiana certainly seemed quite happy with the news of your engagement.”

“Yes, I was rather relieved to find her so effusive in her felicitations,” she confessed. “I would not wish her to believe our friendship to be but a ruse, one designed to catch her brother.”

“Oh, I do not believe such a thought could occur to Georgiana, and besides it was Mr. Darcy who introduced you.”

Humming in agreement, Elizabeth allowed that to be true.

“I noticed you and Mr. Darcy also appeared a bit more at ease in one another’s company,” her aunt then remarked.

“Yes,” she agreed, retreating to the dressing screen as she shed her chemise and donned her nightrail. Then returning to the dressing table, her nimble fingers made quick work of plaiting her hair as she admitted, “I do not wish Georgiana to believe there is something amiss in our betrothal, a sentiment I am certain her brother shares as well.”

Once the task had been completed, Elizabeth finally turned from the mirror, shifting to face her aunt as Mrs. Gardiner finally broached the conversation which had compelled her to seek out her niece. “You have not said much concerning your interview with Mr. Darcy,” she observed, settling at the foot of the bed as she spoke. “I was wondering if perhaps there was anything you wished to discuss.”

Turning her attention to the window for a few moments, Elizabeth mulled over what she wished to share of her long and rather uncomfortable conversation with the gentleman. For she had in truth wished to discuss much of what had been said with her aunt, but had not been afforded the opportunity or, to be honest, the courage to do so. “We discussed several matters,” she finally admitted. “I had a great number of concerns which I believed it only fair and honest to confess, each of which he willingly addressed.”

Nodding gently in encouragement, Aunt Madeline waited patiently as she composed her thoughts; her expression open and empathetic as she listened.

“He has assured me that he will see Mama and my sisters settled into a comfortable home of their own, one which will be of my choosing, and that I may be free to visit them whenever I should like. I know he does not hold them in high regard, and I confessed his opinions of them are not without foundation, but he has also assured me that he will respect them as he would any member of his family.”

“And where shall you seek to have them settled?”

“I agree with Uncle that they would be quite content living by the sea and agreed to continuing to search for a suitable house situated as such.” Taking a moment, she then broached the subject of her own residence, expressing her desire to remain with the Darcys despite his vow to allow her to settle at any of his properties. “I must admit to feeling a bit honored at being entrusted with guiding Georgiana in her debut, and I could not do so living apart from her.

“I know, too, that my conscience simply cannot allow for me to accept the shelter and security of his name, to use his wealth to care for myself and my sisters, only to then abandon my role as the mistress of his home.”

“Yes, I find I must agree to that being a wise choice. I do not believe you could truly find happiness living apart from your family. Nor in abandoning your responsibilities as a wife and sister.”

_Your responsibilities as a wife…_ a turn of phrase which caused Elizabeth to falter for a moment, a slight blush coming to her cheeks. For all she and Mr. Darcy had discussed, it was _that_ particular part of their conversation over which she most desperately wished to consult with her aunt, a woman who she trusted to be honest with her in regards to such delicate matters. But the embarrassment of doing so – and admitting to having engaged in such scandalous conversation with a man to whom she was not yet married – was preventing her from doing so. And finding her courage failing her now, she pressed on to another matter for which she sought her aunt’s wisdom.

“Tonight, standing in the entrance hall of Darcy House, I must admit to finding the prospect of being its mistress a bit overwhelming. And I have not even seen Pemberley yet.”

“I can certainly understand your concerns in overseeing the management of such grand houses, but I do know your mother has taken great care in instructing you and your sisters in managing a home. I have no doubt you shall excel in your role as Mistress of Pemberley.”

“Yes, but I know we all underwent our lessons with the expectation of being mistress to a home more like Longbourn, not Netherfield and certainly not Pemberley!”

“True,” Aunt Madeline acquiesced. “But pray remember, houses as grand as these are already staffed by a fleet of servants who are well-versed in their duties. And, you shall most certainly have a housekeeper who has long overseen the daily management and is there to assist her mistress in learning her new role.”

Her thoughts turning then to Mrs. Chadwick, the memories of her gentle care and gracious demeanor were called to mind. Granting that her aunt’s assurances must indeed be true, she was relived to find these words bringing some measure of comfort in that regard. And expressing as much, thanked her aunt for her reassurances.

“Have you decided yet how you shall share your news with Jane?” she then asked unexpectedly.

“Oh! In truth I have been avoiding thinking too much about Sunday,” Elizabeth admitted. “I know not how she shall respond. I know she shall declare her unconditional happiness for me, of course, but I know not how to broach the subject of her employment.”

“She certainly cannot remain in employment now. A gentleman of the First Circle simply cannot have a sister in service.”

“I know, and I know that she is not truly as happy in her employment as she claims to be. But she shall still feel guilty leaving the Daventry children, especially as they have grown quite attached to her. It is imperative that I find the proper words to help ease her distress.”

“Never fear, my dear. For I have no doubt that you shall do just that.”

*****PnP*****

When Jane Bennet arrived on Gracechurch Street that Sunday afternoon, never would she have predicted the rather shocking news she would soon receive, nor what that news would eventually mean for her own future. Greeting Mrs. Morris as usual, she was informed that her sister was to be found in the garden, enjoying the sunny – if brisk – afternoon air.

“You look well,” Jane observed as the sisters embraced in greeting.

“I thank you. I do indeed feel more myself with each passing day,” she agreed before then inquiring after her sister’s own well-being. And while Jane claimed to also be in good health as well as good spirits, Elizabeth was not nearly as convinced. That Jane was tired was as clear to her as the mid-day sun now shining upon them, serving to remind Elizabeth that what she was about to reveal was ultimately the best decision for them all.

“Jane,” she began, reaching to take her sister’s hand in her own, “I have some rather… important news to share with you.”

Seeing her sister then hesitate, Jane asked, “What is it, Lizzy? Have you found a new position so soon?”

_A new position? Well, that certainly is one way to phrase it,_ Elizabeth quietly mused. However, she elected to say instead, “No, I have not begun to seek a new position.”

Having to stop once more, she struggled with the decision on how to share her news, having ultimately been unsuccessful in arriving at a resolution before now. That she would be surprised to hear her sister was engaged went without saying, but to discover it was Mr. Darcy to whom she would married… well, she could only pray now that she had been correct in anticipating Jane’s response.

“I have received an offer,” she finally confessed.

“An offer? Of what sort?”

“Of marriage.”

“Marriage?” Jane repeated, her surprise undeniable. “From whom?”

“Mr. Darcy.”

Gasping once more in surprise, Jane was rendered speechless for several long moments. She, who had quietly harbored her own suspicions concerning the gentleman and his intentions towards her sister, was uncertain how to respond, knowing her sister to have been decidedly set against him from the very beginning of their acquaintance. Finally, unable to think of any other response, she merely asked, “Will you accept him?”

“I already have.”

“Oh, Lizzy!” she then gushed, wrapping her sister in another embrace as she congratulated her on her engagement. “I was certain he cared deeply for you! But oh, Lizzy!” she then cried, pulling away as she studied her sister closely, “It cannot be. I know how much you dislike him.”

Feeling her cheeks flush in embarrassment, memories of her rather vocal and repeated expressions of dislike towards the gentleman came back to her in a rush, reminding her rather sharply that he was not the only one who needed to make amends. Seeking to cover her discomfiture, she instead replied, “Indeed, I am in earnest. _That_ is all to be forgot.

“Perhaps I did not always like him so well as I do now,” she admitted; a small voice in the back of her mind quietly reminding her just how much of an understatement her confession to be. But quelling her doubts, which she could not afford to entertain right then, she pushed forth a slight smile, jesting, “But in such cases as these, a good memory is unpardonable.”

But her attempt at levity was not enough to smooth the lines of worry now creasing Jane’s brow. “My dear, dear Lizzy, I would — I do congratulate you — but are you certain? Forgive the question, are you quite certain that you can be happy with him?”

Turning from her sister’s probing gaze, Elizabeth found she needed a moment to compose her answer. For in truth, the answer was no; she could not be certain that theirs would someday be a marriage of equal love and affection. She had been honest in her confession to now liking the gentleman; his support and steadfastness throughout the turmoil of these six weeks had forged a bond of friendship unlike any other she could have expected. But as to love, she knew she did not harbor such feelings towards him.

“Was it not Charlotte who always told us happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance?” she again attempted to tease, quietly praying Jane would simply accept her decision without further question.

“Lizzy,” she chided softly, “you know I only wish for your happiness.”

“I know, Jane, I do. Just as I only wish for yours.” And this abruptly brought Elizabeth to her next announcement, one which did not bode well given the skepticism her sister had already expressed towards the match.

“However, I do fear I must apologize to _you_ , Jane.”

“Me? Whyever would you need to apologize to me?”

Drawing a breath deep within her, she quietly uttered one last prayer for forgiveness before confessing, “As Mr. Darcy’s wife, you – _all_ our sisters – shall become his as well…” Pausing for a moment, she watched as Jane nodded in understanding, but before Elizabeth could continue, she did not know whether to be surprised or relieved when she saw the moment of full comprehension strike.

Turning her gaze from her, Jane finished her thought. “I shall need to leave my position with the Daventrys.”

Nodding, Elizabeth pressed her sister’s hand gently, allowing her a moment to resolve herself to her realization. When at last she finally turned to look upon her sister once more, Elizabeth was relieved to perceive a small glimmer of happiness now glowing in Jane’s eyes, though the sadness at leaving her charges was still undeniable.

“I shall be sorry to leave them, but I am so very happy for you Elizabeth,” she professed.

Finally allowing herself to smile as a small gasp of relief escaped her, Elizabeth sought to divert Jane’s sadness by reminding her, “And I shall desperately need your help to prepare for my wedding!”

“When are you to marry?”

“January seventh. Aunt and Uncle have invited Mama and our sisters to join them here in London for Twelfth Night, and we shall all be together for the wedding.”

“So we may finally tell Mama that you are safe and here in London?” Jane then asked hopefully.

Cringing slightly at the reminder of Mrs. Bennet’s growing concerns for her as well as the realization that they would have to keep her in suspense for another month still, Elizabeth sought solace in the thought that anticipation for a trip to Town might be enough to ease her mother’s worries until the time when they could finally be reunited. “We wish to surprise Mama when she arrives in London.”

“But that is over a month away! Surely, we can tell her now that you are well.”

“I know it is hard to keep such a secret from Mama, and I cannot express how very grateful I am for your support throughout my recovery. But I am still not fully healed from my time in Newcastle, and I do so wish to surprise Mama with my engagement, and when I feel well enough to do so.” And although expressing her concerns about continuing to withhold such information from their mother, as expected, Jane finally conceded.

When at last the brisk autumn air became too much for the sisters to endure, they moved indoors, joining their Aunt Madeline for afternoon tea and discussing the details of Jane’s relocation to Gracechurch Street. Although she was disappointed to hear that she would need to take her leave of the Daventrys as soon as may be, she did eventually admit to finding the prospect of once more residing with her sister and cousins rather appealing, and even more so the realization that she would soon be free to return to Longbourn once the nuptials had taken place.

Or so she believed.

*****PnP*****

The crowd at White's was particularly quiet that evening; no doubt a result of familial obligations or other such engagements which demanded the attention of many of the gentleman normally to be found at the club. Tucked away at a table in the corner, Mr. Darcy sipped slowly at his brandy, quietly surveying the few patrons scattered about the room, their voices low as they engaged in their own private conversations. With one eye on the door, he was careful to note the appearance of any additional members, his intentions on finding one in particular of the utmost importance.

Much like his fiancée, Fitzwilliam Darcy had also made arrangements to meet with his relatives on that Sunday, likewise with the intention of sharing the news of his engagement. And much like Elizabeth, he too was uncertain how his news would be received. While he held little doubt Lord and Lady Matlock would be relieved to hear their bachelor nephew had at last selected a bride – a feat in which their own two sons had as yet been unsuccessful – he could not be so certain how they would react to learning that he had chosen from a circle so decidedly beneath their own. As such, he had decided to meet with his aunt and uncle alone, leaving Georgiana to her own devices as he did not wish to expose her to what could possibly be a less than enthusiastic response to his pending nuptials. Well, for that reason as well as his intentions to visit his club afterwards.

_“Fitzwilliam! How delightful to see you,” Lady Matlock greeted, her manner warm and welcoming towards her favorite nephew._

_Greeting the lord and lady in turn, he assumed his place beside his aunt and was relieved to learn that they would be the only ones in attendance for the intimate family dinner, neither of his relatives expecting a call from Edward any time soon._

_“Tis a shame Georgina was unable to join us this evening. I do hope she is well.”_

_“Yes, quite well. She sends her apologies for being unable to accompany me this evening, but a prior commitment required her attention,” he lied, a task which he was a bit dismayed to discover was becoming increasingly easier to do given the frequency in which he had recently been engaging in it._

_“Pray, do pass along our regards.”_

_Promising to do so, he then passed the time in the usual manner, inquiring about distant relatives and their latest correspondences as he furtively sought the opportune moment to make his announcement. When at last the discussion of the lady’s wayward second cousin began to test the limits of his patience, he decided that the time had arrived._

_“I have come bearing some rather important news myself,” he began, drawing curious gazes from them both. “I am to be married.”_

_“Married?” they exclaimed as one._

_“To whom?” his aunt then asked, her expression a mixture of both astonishment and delight._

_“Miss Elizabeth Bennet.”_

_“Who?” Lord Matlock inquired in confusion, while the lady merely clapped her hands together in excitement as she proudly declared she had suspected as much._

_“Pardon?”_

_“Never once have you introduced to Georgiana a young woman of your acquaintance,” she observed. “When she spoke to me of her introduction to Miss Bennet, I suspected she must be a very special young lady, one of some importance to you. And indeed I was correct!”_

_“Of whom are we speaking?”_

_Sighing in exasperation, Lady Matlock did not endeavor to hide the rolling of her eyes at her husband’s obtuseness. “Georgiana’s new friend,” she attempted to clarify. “She spoke about her at great length the last two times we were in her company.”_

_Shrugging dismissively in response to this information, the lord then turned to what Mr. Darcy was sure was the more pressing matter for his uncle: the lady’s family. Declaring the name Bennet as one with which he was unfamiliar, he inquired after Elizabeth’s background and the standing of her family; an inquiry to which Lady Matlock also expressed an interest in learning more about, as Georgiana had not revealed much in the way of her friend’s relations._

_“Her father, who sadly passed earlier this year, was a gentleman of standing in Meryton, the small village located close to his estate in Hertfordshire.”_

_When that appeared to be all their nephew wished to say on the matter, his aunt’s smile quickly began to fade; his uncle’s mounting suspicions becoming evident as he asked, “Are there any relations of his with whom we may be familiar? Uncles? Cousins?”_

_“No, I believe his family to be small in number and with no connections to Ton. Country gentry.”_

_“I see, and what of her mother’s family? Perhaps we may be acquainted with one of her relatives.”_

Here it comes, _he mused, suppressing the grimace which threatened to expose his unease. “Her uncles are in trade.”_

_“Trade?” the lord bellowed. “Surely, you cannot be in earnest! Have you taken leave of your senses?”_

_“I have not,” was all he replied, a touch of defiance lacing his tone as he attempted to stare down his uncle._

_“Truly, Fitzwilliam, what are you thinking?”_

_“That I have finally met a woman of superior character and keen intellect; one whose company I find pleasurable and engaging and wish to enjoy for the remainder of my days,” he shot back heatedly. “She is kind-hearted, charming, and in possession of a wit that is sadly lacking in many of the young ladies whose company I have been forced to endure throughout countless balls and card parties these ten years past. She is indeed the only woman among my acquaintance who I believe is best suited to being my wife, a sister to Georgiana, and the next Mistress of Pemberley, and I shall not be persuaded otherwise.”_

_Following the conclusion of his impassioned declaration, the lord and lady were left quite speechless for several long moments. Even he had been caught unawares by the intensity of this confession, having for the first time since Hunsford given voice to the sentiments he had quietly been harbouring for this year past. And just as his words had that terrible day in Kent, their message still rang true, hardening his conviction in the face of his relatives’ disapproval._

_“That’s all well and good,” Lord Matlock chided, “but that does not change the fact that you have selected a bride who is so clearly beneath us, dragging the Matlock name down with you.”_

_“I do not see how that shall be possible, given that she shall bear the name of her husband. My name, the name of my father and of his father before him: Darcy. Not Fitzwilliam.”_

_“And what of your mother’s name? Does she mean so little in light of this fleeting infatuation you have developed for a simple country-”_

_“Enough!” Lady Matlock finally interrupted, her cold stare of reprobation causing both of the gentleman to hold their tongues, effectively silencing the argument before it could spiral any further out of control. Turning to her nephew, whose umbrage at his uncle’s uncaring words was evident, she sought to sooth the tension before it could grow thick enough to drown them all. “I can see how deeply you must care for Miss Bennet.”_

_Bristling at his aunt’s words, he was troubled to discover just how bare his emotions had become during the heated exchange, revealing far more of himself than he had intended. Once again pulling his mask of cool indifference into place, he responded only with a rough nod of the head, not wishing to speak just yet lest his tongue run away with him again._

_“Georgiana has spoken very highly of Miss Bennet,” she reiterated as she turned a sharp, critical glare upon her husband. “I believe it would be wise for us to refrain from judging the young lady until we have at least had the opportunity to make her acquaintance.”_

_Having learned rather well throughout their forty years of marriage to recognize when an argument had been lost, Lord Matlock turned from the icy stare of his wife to begrudgingly mutter a few words of agreement before emptying what remained of his brandy in one large gulp._

The tension of the drawing room had remained throughout the entirety of their dinner despite the lady’s attempts to engage them both in pleasant conversations. Once the polite amount of time had at last passed, he then excused himself from Matlock House, promising to make arrangements for a dinner at Darcy House, during which they would be afforded the opportunity to meet his betrothed. From there he had then traveled directly to White’s in search of his second unpleasant encounter of the evening: his cousin Edward.

It was a well-known, though rarely acknowledged secret that there existed among many members of the club a standing engagement every Sunday for a high-risk evening of cards; one which Edward rarely ever missed. Hoping that this evening would be no different, Mr. Darcy had come to the club with the intention of finding a few minutes alone with his cousin to discover just how much he remembered about that evening – and Elizabeth in particular – as well as settle his debt once and for all. After a couple hours of mind-numbing boredom, his patience was at last rewarded as Edward strode into the room, looking for his card mates.

“Darcy! How good to see you, old man!”

With a resigned sigh, he struggled to suppress the urge to roll his eyes, not to mention the uncanny sense of déjà vu he experienced while watching his cousin propel himself, ungracefully and without invitation, into the empty seat at his table. “Edward.”

“I see the crowd this evening is much more to your taste,” he observed, glancing about the room and frowning slightly upon discovering that his gaming companions had not yet arrived.

Humming quietly in agreement, he sought the eye of one of the servants, silently requesting a refill on his drink as well as procuring one for his cousin. Once the drinks had been delivered and they were again left to their privacy, he wasted little time in pulling from his waistcoat pocket twenty pounds, dropping it unceremoniously on the table.

“Ah yes!” Edward laughed, “How could I forget? The ever-reliable Fitzwilliam Darcy is never one to neglect his debts.”

“This matter is settled,” was all he would said, his tone firm and final in its declaration.

“Yes, yes. Tis a shame though, is it not?” Edward mused, taking up the bills and tucking them safely away in his tailcoat pocket. Although it would in all likelihood not reside there for long once his fellow gamblers arrived. “It was a most pleasurable evening.”

“The matter is settled,” he repeated, his glare cold and unflinching as he surveyed his cousin. But knowing Edward’s penchant for needling him so, he was making a gamble of his own, hoping that his cousin’s loose tongue would ultimately reveal enough to confirm just how much he remembered about that night. “And it shall never again be mentioned, not between us or with any other.”

“Why, surely you would not mind my discussing it with the lady herself?” Edward teased, his eyebrow quirked in mischief as he attempted to detect any hint of discomfort in his uptight and dour cousin. But sensing none and receiving only an unrelenting glower of disapproval from the gentleman, he apparently decided to push a little further, determined to get a rise out of him.

Just as Mr. Darcy had hoped he would.

“She is a feisty little minx, is she not?” he then asked. “I was pleased to learn that you most certainly got my money’s worth out of her.”

“I beg your pardon?” he demanded, his confidence momentarily routed by the fear that Edward had discovered his connection with Elizabeth; a fear which quickly boiling over into outrage, followed swiftly by anger. Had that blasted harlot shared with his cousin the events of the following morning? Did Edward truly believe that he was currently maintaining the girl as a mistress, secreted away somewhere for his own personal entertainment? If so, what could he possibly do to convince him otherwise and ensure his secrecy, especially once he learned of the impending marriage?

As these thoughts raced through his mind, Edward at last appeared satisfied at having knocked his stoic and taciturn cousin off-kilter. Grinning smugly in victory, he now sought to press his advantage, curious as to just how far he could push the gentleman before he would lose his composure altogether.

“Come now, Darcy, we are both men of the world. Well… perhaps one of us has a bit more experience in such… worldly matters,” he taunted. “But that is neither here nor there.”

His patience with Edward’s game wearing thin, he no longer felt the need to maintain an air of politeness towards his degenerate cousin, openly rolling his eyes at the lame attempt to insult him.

“As a man in possession of a deeper, more extensive knowledge in regards to such matters, it was my duty to ensure that you, my novice companion, had indeed received the services for which I had so handsomely paid.”

There existed no words in the human language that could have accurately described the utter shock, mortification, and relief experienced by the gentleman from Derbyshire at that precise moment; a whirlwind of emotions consuming him as he had parsed his cousin’s words and finally interpreted just what it was the man was trying so ineloquently to say.

“And I must say, she certainly is quite worth the twenty pounds,” Edward winked. “In fact, I have enjoyed her company on several occasions.”

_He believes the girl is in the employment of the madame still!_

Schooling his features, Mr. Darcy assumed his usual mien of disinterest, flicking a non-existent piece of lint from his coat sleeve as he played along with his cousin’s misconception. More than happy to foster the fallacy from which his cousin clearly drew great pleasure, he declared, “Yes well, I shall leave you to such pursuits, as they are not to my taste.”

Then finishing what remained of his drink, he gestured to the door through which several of his cousin’s acquaintances had just entered, offering him the perfect opportunity to take his leave of this wholly distasteful conversation from which he had already gleaned all he wished to know. “As well as many others.”

Rising from his seat, he placed the empty glass upon the table and graced his cousin with one last piece of advice, as well as a curiously smug smirk, “Try not to lose my twenty pounds all in one hand.”


End file.
